


Neighbors

by CIandSVUcrazy



Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 61,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CIandSVUcrazy/pseuds/CIandSVUcrazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hi," the little girl said. "What's your name?" The boy bit his lip, indecisive. Then, seeming to decide that this wasn't too obtrusive of a question, he replied, "I'm Bobby."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Chapter One – First Meeting** _(Bobby is six, Alex is four)_

“Go and play outside!” 

Bobby trailed after his older brother. His mother instructed them to go outside at some point every day. She wanted to be left alone, and he knew she would be displeased if they went back in before she called them. 

With a sigh, Bobby shut the door behind him, resigned to another afternoon outside in the hot sun without the book he was reading. He was only six, but already books had caught hold of his imagination. His mother read to him sometimes, but he enjoyed the stories too much to only rely on being read to, so he had worked very hard to be able to read by himself. 

Bobby wandered over to the old soccer ball in the backyard. “Want to play?” he asked Frank. 

“Not with you, shorty,” Frank shot back. Bobby frowned, but didn’t reply. His brother had recently stopped wanting to play with him, and Bobby had to admit that his feelings were hurt. He and Frank used to play all sorts of games for hours in the backyard together, but now Frank had decided he was too old to play with his little brother. 

Bobby kicked the soccer ball against the fence, deciding to play by himself, when he noticed Frank edging towards the gate. “What are you doing?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” Frank replied, but Bobby knew him too well to believe that. 

“Mom says we’re supposed to stay in the backyard,” Bobby told his brother, abandoning the soccer ball. 

“Mom’s not going to call us in for a while,” Frank countered, “she won’t even know I’m gone.” Bobby frowned; he didn’t want to risk upsetting his mother. “Bobby,” Frank said, “just wait here and don’t tell Mom I’ve left. I’ll bring you back a candy if you stay quiet.”

“You can’t get a candy,” Bobby argued. “Mom hasn’t given us any pocket money.”

“Just because she didn’t give you any, doesn’t mean she didn’t give me any,” Frank returned nastily. 

Bobby’s shoulders drooped. He knew that Frank was his mother’s favourite son, but it still hurt whenever it was pointed out. 

Frank looked down at his feet; sorry that he had hurt his brother’s feelings. He did care for Bobby. “I was just teasing,” he said. “I saved the money she gave me last week.”

“Oh,” Bobby replied, much happier now. 

“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?” Frank asked. Bobby shook his head solemnly. He stood at the gate and watched his brother leave, wishing he was brave enough to follow. But he knew that while Frank would be forgiven for breaking the rules, he would be in big trouble, so he returned to the soccer ball and resumed kicking it against the fence. 

Suddenly a voice called out, “Hey, cut it out!”

Bobby approached the wooden fence and attempted to peer through the wooden slats. However, even through the tiny cracks all he could see were the cedar trees that the neighbor had planted on the other side. 

“Hello?” Bobby asked. 

“I said, stop hitting the fence!” the voice responded. The voice belonged to a child. Bobby knew that the neighbors had a few children, but he had never met them. He and his family had only moved the month previously, so he hadn’t even been to school yet to meet them there. 

Bobby walked over to an old doghouse from the previous owner which was sitting next to the fence. By stepping onto it and standing on his toes, he could peer over the fence into the next-door-neighbor’s yard. A young girl was playing with a couple of race car toys by the fence. She looked up and saw him. 

“Hi,” the little girl said. “What’s your name?” 

The boy bit his lip, indecisive. Then, seeming to decide that this wasn’t too obtrusive of a question, he replied, “I’m Bobby.” 

The girl left her race cars sitting on the grass and approached the fence. She was very small; Bobby suspected that if she was standing where he was she would have difficulty even grasping the top of the fence with her hands. 

“What’s your name?” Bobby asked. 

“Guess,” she replied, with a cheeky grin.

“Hey,” Bobby said, frowning. “That’s not fair, I told you mine!”

The girl smirked. “Too bad,” she announced. “You’re going to have to guess.”

Bobby considered simply retreating into his own backyard (the girl was too small to peek into his yard) but he was facing hours of boredom anyway, so he decided to play along. “Fine,” he huffed. He glanced around the garden for inspiration. “Is it Rose?” he asked. 

“Ugh,” the girl said, scrunching up her face in distaste. “Not even close!”

“Okay, so not a flower name,” Bobby said. The girl shook her head vehemently.

“Maybe… Sarah?”

“Nope.”

“Tracey?”

“No.”

“Beverly?”

She shook her head. Bobby continued to guess and was wrong every time. “I don’t know,” he said after about twenty guesses. “I give up.” 

“Fine, then you’ll never know my name,” she said smugly. 

Bobby opened his mouth to retort when he heard, “Alex? Did you sneak outside again? Get back in here!”

The girl spun around to face the back door of her house angrily. “Mo-om!” she whined. “I was making him guess my name!”

“Making who guess your name?” Alex’s mother asked. Alex looked back at the fence, but Bobby had disappeared. He didn’t think that it would be considered polite to have been peering into his neighbor’s backyard, and in any case, he didn’t want any adults asking him awkward questions. 

“There was a boy!” Alex exclaimed. “He was at the fence!”

“Was he?” Alex’s mother asked, amused. 

“No, really,” Alex told her mother. “There was a boy looking over the fence – his name was Bobby!"

“Okay, honey,” Alex’s mother said. “Does Bobby want to come inside for lunch with you?” She glanced around the backyard, assuming that Alex had an imaginary friend. 

“He must have had to go back into his house,” Alex said. “I didn’t make him up!”

“Okay, honey,” her mother soothed. “It’s time to go inside for lunch now.”

Bobby, standing on the other side of the fence, listened to the back door of the house close. With a sigh, he resumed kicking the soccer ball against the fence, as there was no one to tell him off now.


	2. Becoming Friends

Bobby had been prepared today. He made sure to carry his book around the house with him all morning so that he would have it when his mother sent them outside to play. He settled himself against the fence and opened it. 

Frank was already heading for the gate. Bobby didn’t bother to try and stop him today. At least he had his book, if his brother didn’t want to keep him company. He had no friends in this new neighborhood, so his book would have to do. He glanced at the fence, and wondered if the girl (Alex, he reminded himself) would be outside today. 

He had been reading for about ten minutes when he heard the back door of the neighbor’s house open. He listened for Alex’s voice. She was outside with her sister today – Bobby could hear another child’s voice. She wouldn’t be interested in talking to him today if she had her sister to play with. 

Bobby went back to trying to read, but he kept getting distracted by the gleeful voices of the two girls next door. He listened to them play enviously – if only Frank still wanted to play with him! But ever-popular Frank had already made new friends, so Bobby remained alone. 

A short time later, Bobby heard a man’s voice. It must be Alex’s father. 

“Who wants to come into town with me?” he asked. 

“I do!” called one girl.

“And you, Alex?”

“No,” Alex replied. “I think I’d like to stay in the backyard.”

Alex’s father and sister left, and shortly after her mother returned to the house too. Only Alex remained in the yard. 

Bobby startled as a softball soared over his head and hit the ground with a thud. “Hey Bobby?” Alex asked. “Are you there?”

Bobby chased the ball that was rolling across the ground. He picked it up and threw it back over the fence as a response. 

“I knew it!” Alex squealed excitedly. “I knew I didn’t make you up!”

Bobby stepped onto the doghouse again in order to look over the fence. Alex was standing near the cedar trees, holding the baseball and smiling. 

“Hi,” Bobby said. 

“Hi,” Alex returned. “Do you want to play ball with me?”

“Yes!” Bobby replied eagerly. “Toss it back over the fence!” 

Alex frowned at him. “No, we can’t play with a fence between us! I won’t be able to see you.”

Bobby also frowned. “What do you want to do then?”

“Come over here!” Alex instructed. 

“I’m not supposed to leave my yard,” Bobby replied hesitantly. 

“Oh, come on!” Alex insisted. “Just climb over the fence. You’ll be back soon enough; your mother won’t even realize you’ve left!”

Bobby considered that for a moment. It was the same thing Frank had said, and he hadn’t been caught. Besides, Bobby’s mother wouldn’t be calling him back for a while still. But he would be in trouble if anyone found out…

“I don’t think I can,” Bobby told her. “My Mom would be angry if I left when she said not to.”

“Are you a scaredy-cat?” Alex demanded. 

“No,” Bobby said angrily. “I’m not scared!” 

“You are!” Alex taunted. “You’re a scaredy-cat; Bobby’s a scaredy-cat!”

“I am not!” Bobby insisted. 

“Well come on then,” Alex said. “Prove it!”

Bobby seized the top of the fence and managed to pull himself over it. He slid down the other side, landing in a heap at the foot of the cedar trees. He was certain that he had bruised his knee, and he had a few scratches from the trees, but other than that he was fine. 

A small grinning face peered at him between the trees. “Wow, you did it!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t think you would!”

Bobby crawled out after her, and stood up to brush off his knees. “I told you I wasn’t scared!”

“You deserve a hero cookie!” Alex exclaimed. She ran over to her back porch and picked up the last two cookies from a plate sitting there. She ran back over to Bobby and held one out to him. 

“Are you sure I’m allowed?” Bobby asked, hesitating to take it. 

Alex bobbed her head. “Yes, these were for me,” she told him, “but I can share one with you if I want.”

Bobby took the cookie from her. After they finished, they tossed the softball around for a time. 

“Hey Bobby?” Alex asked. “Did you tell anyone that you met me yesterday?”

“No,” he replied. 

“Well I only told my Mom, and she didn’t believe me,” Alex said. “So we’re like… secret friends! It’s like having an imaginary friend, only better, ‘cause you’re real!”

“Secret friends?” Bobby asked. It was certainly better than having no friends at all. He was also a fan of anything that was at all mysterious. 

They continued to play for a long while, until Alex put too much force behind her throw and sent the ball soaring over the fence again and into Bobby’s backyard. Suddenly, Bobby realized he had forgotten about something. “Oh no!” he cried. “I can’t get back into my yard!”

“Well come on,” Alex said. “You’ve got to try!”

The two children crawled back between the cedar trees and stood up against the fence. It looked much more daunting than Bobby remembered. 

“I’ll give you a leg-up!” Alex said. Bobby raised his eyebrows in disbelief as she approached him with her fingers laced together. Her tiny frame looked ill-adapted to lift an overweight cat, let alone a boy who was larger than her. 

“Umm, I don’t think that’s going to work,” Bobby said. 

“We could dig a hole underneath the fence!” Alex suggested. The two children bent down and began to scrape against the dirt under the fence. Luckily, the ground wasn’t too hard because of the garden. Soon both children were sweaty and covered in dirt. The hole they had been working so diligently on was perhaps large enough for a cat to pass through, but not Bobby, or even tiny Alex. 

“This is taking forever!” Bobby sighed. He wiped some sweat off of his brow, leaving a large trail of mud across his forehead. 

“Well, there’s nothing else for it!” Alex concluded. “We’ll have to go around the front.”

“We?” Bobby asked. “Are you coming with me?”

“Of course!” Alex replied. 

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

“If I get caught,” she said, with another mischievous grin. 

Bobby smiled, and the two of them made their way to Alex’s front yard, Bobby’s front yard, and then Bobby’s backyard. 

Bobby led her over to the doghouse that he used to climb over to her yard. Alex looked down and caught sight of his book. 

“Are you reading that?” she asked. Bobby nodded, and her eyes widened in awe. “Wow,” she said softly. “I can read,” she told him with a hint of pride, “but not something like that!”

“I love to read,” Bobby told her. 

“Me too,” she offered, grinning. “But I have to practice more before I can read something like that. Mom says that I’ll learn to read better in school.”

“What grade are you in?” Bobby asked. 

“It’s my first year,” Alex replied happily. “I’ve wanted to go since my sister started, and now I can finally go too!”

“I’m starting the first grade,” Bobby informed her. “No wonder you’re so small,” he added thoughtfully, “you’re still a baby!”

“You take that back!” Alex said angrily. She turned to face him with her hands balled into fists. “I am NOT a baby!”

“Okay, sorry!” Bobby said. He meant it too; he hadn’t wanted to offend his only friend (even if she was quite a bit younger than him). She glared at him mutinously while he squirmed uncomfortably for a long time before she turned away. 

“Alright, help me over this fence!” she instructed. 

Bobby rushed forward to do as she’d asked, hoping that she had forgiven him. She climbed onto the doghouse, but as Bobby had suspected, she was too short to climb over the fence herself. Bobby laced his fingers together and stepped forward. 

She put her foot into his hands and he managed to lift her up high enough for her to fold her body over the fence before he fell over, panting. 

“Thanks,” she grunted, swinging her legs over the fence. She tumbled over the fence and crashed to the ground. 

Bobby hurriedly climbed onto the doghouse to peer over the fence. Alex was crumpled on the ground against the fence. “Alex?” he asked nervously. “Alex, are you okay?”

She looked up and gave him the thumbs up. “Meet me out here tomorrow,” she instructed. “And we really need to make that hole bigger! I would much rather go under the fence rather than over!”


	3. Plans for the Future

Bobby wandered into the backyard again the next day. For the third consecutive day, Frank left, this time without even a word to Bobby. Bobby headed straight for the fence.   
“Alex?” he asked. “Alex, are you there?”

There was no response. He climbed onto the doghouse again, and saw that the yard was deserted. He stepped back down and sighed heavily. “I suppose she forgot about meeting me,” he whispered to himself. “She’s probably not coming,” he added dejectedly. 

He knelt down next to the hole they had begun digging under the fence and began absent-mindedly continuing to dig. He wasn’t sure his friend would be coming, but he thought he’d continue widening the hole just in case. 

Soon enough, he heard Alex come running out of her house. Shortly after, she had shoved her head down in the hole and was peering at him through it. “Hi Bobby!”

“Hi Alex,” he replied, grinning widely. 

“Come over the fence!” Alex instructed, pulling her head out from the hole. Bobby was quick to obey. A few moments later, he was crumpled at the other side of the fence with Alex eagerly pulling him to his feet. Her hair had soil from the ground in it and she had dirt smeared on her face, but she didn’t seem to care. 

The two of them played together happily for some time. “Hey Alex?” Bobby asked a while later. 

“Yeah?” she asked. 

“You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too,” she replied happily. 

“Do you promise that we’ll always be friends forever?”

“Pinkie promise!” Alex exclaimed, extending her hand. “Cross my heart and hope to die; stick a needle in my eye!”

They linked their fingers together, grinning widely. They were too young then to really understand what they were promising, and to know that life’s twists and turns could get in the way of a friendship formed on a hot summer day with a fence between them. They didn’t think it was at all unreasonable for the next-door-neighbor to be a ‘secret friend forever’. 

But that day, they did believe it. They believed that they would always be friends. 

 

It had been nearly a month since Bobby and Alex had first met. They had visited each other almost every day; either Alex crawled under the fence or Bobby climbed over it. They were also both still enjoying the idea of being ‘secret friends’.

Since they both also loved books, it had been their habit for Bobby to bring his book outside, and for them to read together. Alex was still painstakingly slow when she read, but Bobby didn’t mind. He was more patient than most children his own age. Sometimes they took turns reading out loud, and sometimes they both read silently (Bobby staring into space until Alex had finally made it to the bottom so he could turn the page). 

At the moment, they were in Bobby’s yard leaning against the fence with a book open. They had just reached the end. 

“That was a good one,” Alex commented. Bobby nodded in agreement. “I liked the part where she got to be a flower girl in her aunt’s wedding.” Again, Bobby nodded. 

“Hey Bobby, do you know what we should do when we grow up?” Alex asked. 

“What?” Bobby replied. 

“Get married,” Alex said bluntly, in the way that only children can. 

“Okay,” Bobby agreed. “I’ll buy you a ring when I grow up and get a job.”

Alex giggled. “We can move to Hawaii!”

“Why Hawaii?” Bobby asked. 

“I don’t know, I just think it would be a fun place to live.”

“Okay,” Bobby agreed. “We’ll go to Hawaii. I suppose you want to be a princess?”

“No,” Alex corrected disdainfully. “I’m going to drive race cars for NASCAR.”

“Oh,” Bobby replied. “That sounds like fun.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Bobby replied. “I like books; I suppose I could be a librarian like Ma.”

“A librarian? Alex asked. “Can boys even be librarians?”

“Can girls even drive race cars?” Bobby shot back. 

“Of course!” Alex replied. “And I’m sorry, I’m sure a librarian would be a good thing for you to be.” 

“No, you’re probably right,” Bobby sighed. “My dad sure wouldn’t like it. He would say that it’s not a man’s job. A man needs to make a living working with his hands to support his family.” Bobby examined his own small hands, as though preparing himself for the time they would be doing ‘a man’s work’. 

“Well, I’ll make enough money with NASCAR that you won’t have to worry about making a living,” Alex told him. 

“My dad wouldn’t like that.”

“Your dad can take his opinion and stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Alex said hotly. 

“What does that mean?” Bobby asked. 

“I don’t know,” Alex replied. “I heard Mom say it to Dad once though.”

They stopped talking for a moment, lost in thought. Then Alex broke the silence, saying, “Can we have a tree house?”

“I’ll build you a tree house in a palm tree,” Bobby promised solemnly. 

“And we have to have lots of books!” Alex exclaimed. “A whole huge library.”

Bobby nodded in agreement. “It’s a perfect idea!” 

“Yeah, but we can’t tell anyone,” Alex reminded him. “Because we’re secret friends.”

“They’ll find out when we get married,” Bobby informed her. 

“I wonder what my parents will think of that…”


	4. Confessions

_(Bobby is seven, Alex is five)_

During the year that Alex and Bobby had known each other, they had managed to keep their word, and remain 'secret friends'. Though they went to the same school, Alex was two grades below Bobby, so they had different friends at school. They never told each other their last names – it made it more mysterious that way.

They had also discovered, to both of their delight, that Alex's bedroom window faced Bobby's. At night they could shine flashlights through the windows to each other. Flicking the light on and off three times meant: are you awake? Two flicks for yes. Two short flicks and one longer one meant to signal a smile. Four flicks in quick succession meant they were unhappy. Turning the light on and making a circle meant: see you tomorrow.

The only problem with this was that there were still a limited number of things that could be communicated. For example, once Alex had signaled that she was upset, but Bobby had no way to ask why, or to offer any comfort. Even if he had asked been able to ask why she was upset, Alex wouldn't have been able to answer. He had spent most of the night awake worrying about her, sending her the 'see you tomorrow' signal (turning the flashlight in a circular motion) repeatedly until she stopped answering. The next day he had found out that she had an argument with her sister, but they had made up and Alex was fine.

After she had seen how worried Bobby had been, Alex decided to never tell him that she was upset with their flashlight signals again. Even at her young age she didn't want to upset him – nor did she want anyone worrying about her.

At the moment Bobby was lying in his bed, trying to fall asleep. It was the beginning of the summer again, which probably meant that he and Frank would be sent into the backyard for hours on end again.

Bobby looked up as a beam of light flashed into his room. One, two, three flashes of light. Are you awake? Bobby quickly searched for his own flashlight and flicked it on and off twice. Yes. Alex sent the signal for a smile. Bobby returned it, smiling in reality as well. A beam of light circled the window in response. See you tomorrow. Bobby flicked his flashlight on and off twice. Yes. He sent her another smile. She returned it.

Bobby waited for a time with his flashlight in his hand, but she didn't respond again. He considered asking her if she was awake again, but decided not to. He crawled back into bed with his flashlight still gripped in his hand, just in case she sent him another message. He fell asleep with it in his hand.

 

The next day Bobby left the house frowning. He was normally looking forward to meeting Alex outside, but he was worried today. He was beginning to wonder about his mother. She had been acting rather odd lately. He wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what it was that was different, but there was something.

He tried asking his brother about it. "Frank?" he asked. "Do you find that Ma's been acting strangely lately?"

"I don't know," Frank replied, shrugging.

"She's been acting funny since Dad got back," Bobby said.

Frank paused and sighed. He didn't want to discuss this with his little brother, but he should have known better than to think that Bobby wouldn't notice.

"I don't know what happened," Frank replied.

"But, she's acting strangely! Haven't you noticed?"

Frank snorted impatiently. "You're too young to understand," he snapped. He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Bobby cried, grabbing Frank's arm. "What's wrong with Ma?"

Frank frowned, unsure. Though older than Bobby, Frank was still young enough that he didn't really understand the whole situation. He didn't want to worry his sensitive younger brother anyway. He turned away without answering.

Bobby frowned at his brother's retreating back. His mind was whirling with worry for his mother, and wondering if Frank knew something he didn't. He returned to the house, thinking that he might be able to ask his mother. She wouldn't be pleased with him returning before she'd called, but he couldn't wait to find out if it what had made her upset. His curiosity was too strong. Not to mention the fact that he wanted his mother to return to normal.

He wandered into the house and up the stairs. His mother was probably lying down. He knocked gently on the door. "Ma?" he asked. "Are you in there?"

"What is it, Bobby?" his mother asked wearily. Bobby pushed the door open to see her lying on the bed with all the blinds closed.

"Ma, are feeling okay?" Bobby asked. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine Bobby. Now go back outside."

"Did someone upset you?" Bobby dared to ask.

The change in his mother was immediate and frightening. She sat up quickly and glared at him with an expression he had never seen before. "Don't ever speak to me like that again!"

"But, Ma-"

"Get out!" she screamed. "Never speak that way to me again! Your brother would never treat me like this; he always listens to me! Now, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"  
She seized a book from her nightstand and threw it. Bobby ducked, and quickly retreated to the hallway, shutting the door behind him for fear of another projectile. He rushed outside faster than he ever had in his life. He couldn't believe his mother had thrown something at him. And he had been reminded of how Frank was his mother's favourite, again.  
Bobby left the house and sank to the ground by the fence. His eyes filled with tears, which he furiously tried to hold back. He could just hear his father telling him that men don't cry, and he'd better learn to buck up.

But why would his mother have thrown something at him? That book was a hardcover. If it had hit him, it would have _hurt_. And besides that, Frank did not always listen to her – she just believed the lies he told her. Bobby never told his mother that Frank disobeyed her. She probably wouldn't believe it anyway.

Bobby scrubbed at his eyes furiously. Maybe his mother liked Frank better because he really was a better son. Bobby tried his best, but he seemed to get on his parent's bad side more often than Frank, and he was slower to be forgiven too. Bobby was just wondering what was so wrong with him when the sound of the neighbor's back door closing caught his attention. He turned to look at the fence, hopeful that Alex was alone.

He was answered soon enough as she wriggled her way under the fence and into his yard. "Hi Bobby!" she said. He smile faded and her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Bobby said quickly.

"I don't believe that for a second," Alex replied. She walked over and placed her hand on his arm. "You can tell me," she said earnestly.

Bobby frowned at the ground while he considered her offer. He had never told anyone about his mother, not even his friends from school. But Alex was his first friend here, and she was his secret friend. If she had kept his existence a secret, surely she would keep what he told her a secret?

"You can't tell," Bobby said.

"I won't," she replied. "I promise I'll keep your secret."

"I'm worried about my mother."

"Why?" Alex asked.

"She's been different," Bobby said.

"What do you mean different?" Alex asked.

"She's… been acting a bit odd lately."

"Maybe she's upset about something?" Alex suggested. "Did you ask her?"

Bobby felt his eyes burning again at the reminder of his encounter with his mother. "Yes, she… she didn't tell me what was wrong."

"Did something happen when you asked her?" Alex asked, concerned.

Looking at her sympathetic expression, Bobby found that it became harder to hold back his tears. One escaped and slid down his cheek. He brushed it away, furious that someone had seen him crying.

However, much to Bobby's surprise, rather than being disgusted with his tears, Alex had wrapped her arms around him. "What happened?"

"She got really angry," Bobby replied miserably. "If only I was more like Frank…"

"Who's Frank?" Alex asked.

"My brother," Bobby replied. "He's a better son than I am."

"I don't think that's true!" Alex said earnestly. She released him, and sat back to look at him. "You actually wanted to find out what's bothering your mother, and Frank didn't! Did he?" she asked, suddenly realizing she didn't know.

"No, but that was the better thing to do because now Ma is angry!" Bobby said. "I think I just made things worse."

"Even if she likes Frank better than you, it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you," Alex told him. He still didn't look convinced. She was unable to counter what he had said. She, after all, didn't know his mother at all. "I like you better than Frank," she offered.

"You don't even know Frank," Bobby laughed.

Alex shrugged. "I don't care. You're my best friend."

Bobby smiled at her. Having Alex living next door made up for anything bad that had happened in the morning. He got up and fetched the soccer ball from besides a tree. "I'll be the goalie," he said.

Alex took the ball from him, and the two played together in Bobby's yard.

 

Bobby was nervous to re-enter his house that evening. His mother was sitting on the couch; his father appeared to have left again. His mother turned as the door opened, revealing that her two sons had heard her calling.

"Come and sit," she said, patting the seats on either side of her. Frank went over and sat down next to her. She wrapped an arm around him. Bobby hesitated at the edge of the room. Was his mother still angry with him?

"You too, Bobby," his mother said, indicating for him to join her. Bobby launched himself next to her. She seemed to be in a much better mood now, her irritation with Bobby that morning forgotten. She wrapped her other arm around her younger son before turning back to Frank. "Tell me about your day," she instructed. Frank obliged, and Bobby sat quietly listening to his brother and watching his mother smile at her favourite son.

Still, Bobby reasoned, he was also sitting with his mother. He was even lucky enough to have one of her arms around his own shoulders. He snuggled in closer to his mother, not even minding that she didn't ask about his day at all.


	5. Secrets

Bobby flicked his flashlight at the window in response to Alex. She replied with a circular motion of her flashlight. _See you tomorrow_. Bobby responded in kind. It was nice to have this way to communicate – but it was inhibited by the small number of things they could actually say to each other. 

Bobby jumped as he heard a door slam. The sound was shortly followed by the raised voices of his parents. His father must have returned. Bobby placed his pillow over his head to try and block out the sound. When that didn’t work, he got up and crept towards his brother’s room. 

“Frank?” he asked. His brother was also still awake. He was standing at the crack between his bedroom door and the wall. He pressed a finger to his lips.

“Can I come in?” Bobby whispered. Frank sighed irritably, but moved over. Bobby entered the room. Frank leaned forward again in order to listen to what their parents were shouting. 

“I’m scared,” Bobby told his brother. 

“Oh grow up!” Frank snapped. Bobby threw himself onto his brother’s bed and pulled the covers over his head. His parents shouted for what seemed to Bobby like a very long time before he heard his father stomping up the stairs and slam the door to the bedroom. 

Frank returned to his bed, lifted the covers, and dumped Bobby unceremoniously onto the floor before crawling in. 

“Ouch!” Bobby hissed. 

Frank made no response. He pulled the blankets up to his eyeballs and glared at his little brother. 

Bobby got up and went to leave. He peered out the door, but he was afraid that one of his parents would come by when he went to return to his room. He didn’t want to be shouted at like that. 

“Frank?” Bobby asked. Frank grunted to show that he heard. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Don’t be a baby!” Frank snapped. 

“Please?” Bobby wheedled. “I’ll stay right here on the floor.” He lay down on a rug near his brother’s bed and curled up like a cat. When Frank didn’t reply, Bobby accepted that as permission to remain on the floor, and closed his eyes. 

“Oh get in,” Frank muttered, holding up the covers. Bobby got up quickly and dived in next to his big brother. “You know you’re getting too old for this?”

Bobby nodded. Frank placed an arm around him anyway. “Goodnight, little brother.”

“Goodnight, big brother.”

“Don’t you dare wake me even a second before nine.”

“Okay.”

Back then, Bobby felt completely safe and protected with his big brother’s arm wrapped around him. He never would have dreamed that their roles would one day be reversed.

 

“No, Timmy, get out of there!” 

Bobby pressed himself flat against the ground to peek through the hole under the fence. A pair of small hands waved as the one-year-old was pulled from the hole and hoisted into the air by his big sister. 

Bobby recognized Alex’s shoes on the other side of the fence. Lucky for them that she was the one to get the baby! It wouldn’t be good if their hole was discovered. Luckily, adults tended to not like playing in the dirt, Frank was never around, and Alex’s older sister Lizzie did not approve of the dirt surrounding the fence. 

Their secret safe, Bobby sat back up again to resume reading while the neighbors played in the backyard. Once again, he forced himself to swallow the jealousy that was burning in the pit of his stomach. Alex was so lucky! She had an older sister and a younger brother to play with. Her sister didn’t disappear for hours on end, like Frank. Although her father was gone a fair amount, he still wasn’t gone as often as Bobby’s own father. And her mother’s brain wasn’t sick, like his mother’s.

In the end, telling his little brother that their mother’s brain was sick had been the only explanation Frank could give. Bobby had been terrified at the very thought. 

“She has a sickness in her brain?” Bobby had asked worriedly. 

“Yes,” Frank replied. 

“Like… c-cancer?” Bobby asked, horrified. This was the worst disease he had heard of, and he knew that people could sometimes have cancer in their brains. He didn’t want his mother to die!

“No, not like cancer,” Frank replied wearily. How could he explain the disease to Bobby? 

“So she’s not going to die?” Bobby asked. 

“No, it’s not that kind of sickness,” Frank replied. 

Bobby frowned, trying very hard to concentrate on what his brother had said. “So… what is the brain sickness like?”

“It makes her say funny things, and do strange things sometimes,” Frank replied. “It makes her confused about what’s real and what’s not.”

Bobby’s eyes widened in horror. What kind of terrible sickness could change people’s thoughts?

He was intent to find out more, which was why he was sitting outside waiting for Alex again on that particular day. He wanted to go to the library to find out more about what was affecting his mother. He thought Alex might go with him. They could look for some books to read together while they were there. 

But first, he would have to wait for her to be alone. It never even occurred to either of them that she could simply ask him over. They never considered the fact that Alex’s parents would not have minded having Bobby come over to play with their family. A year was a long time for kids, and the habit of keeping their friendship a secret persisted simply because it never occurred to them that the secrecy did not have to continue; things between them remained the way they always had before. 

 

The next day Bobby was sitting at the library with a stack of books in front of him. They all used big words that were hard to understand. Words like delusions, hallucinations, and erratic behavior chased themselves throughout his mind. He thought he might be more confused after reading the texts than before. 

He glanced over at Alex, who was engrossed in a short, children’s novel. They had met up at the library that day, Alex going with her older sister, and Bobby going by himself. He was old enough this year that he had been permitted to leave the yard for a few hours in the afternoon. Alex’s parents had deemed five years old to be too young for her to walk there alone, so Lizzie had brought her. Ten-year-old Lizzie was flipping through a romance novel, attempting to look more grown-up than she was. 

“I don’t understand this,” Bobby finally admitted, closing the book. 

Alex looked up at him. “Well then, don’t worry about it,” she said. “Your brother said she wasn’t going to get really sick, right?”

How easy for her to say, Bobby thought. She had no idea of the strange things his mother would sometimes do or say. She had no idea about the fear…

Of course, she might have a better idea, if he told her what it was like. But he couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t bear the shame of admitting what it was like in his house. This thought made Bobby’s insides squirm painfully with guilt. What a terrible boy he was – ashamed of his own mother! 

“I can’t not worry,” Bobby said finally. “She’s my mother.”

Alex set down the book she had been reading. “You’re right,” she agreed. “I’m sorry, Bobby. Do you want me to have a look at it? Maybe we could work out what it says together?”

Bobby looked up at her, his best friend. Her offer was sincere – she was willing to help him even though he seriously doubted that she would be able to make much more sense of it than he could. He also knew that he could tell her about his fear, that he could tell her anything. But he just couldn’t bring himself to tell her about this. It was too shameful for him to tell anyone, and he didn’t want to drag his innocent friend into it. At seven years old, Bobby Goren was already learning to close himself off. 

“Never mind this,” he said, pushing the texts aside and smiling. “Maybe you’re right, let’s just forget about it. What are you reading?”

She held his gaze for just a moment longer, allowing him the opportunity to change his mind. Then she began to describe the story, her five-year-old mind soon forgetting the confusion and despair in her friend’s eyes moments before. 

Bobby was smiling now, carefully regulating his confusion and worry to the back of his mind to stew on later. He vowed to never drag Alex into this again – he would enjoy his time with her as though he was completely carefree.


	6. Time to Grow Up

_(Bobby is eight, Alex is six)_

It had been a year since Bobby decided that he would no longer involve Alex in his home life. He hadn’t told her anything about his parents, or his brother. 

He had recently started wondering about his father. His mother had neglected the laundry for some time, so in order to have clothes to wear the next day; Bobby had taken it upon himself. When sticking one of his father’s shirts in the washing machine, he had detected the smell of perfume. But his mother hadn’t worn perfume for months, maybe even years. 

His mother had drifted further and further from reality as her delusions became more frequent and terrifying. Bobby couldn’t help but wonder if it was this that had pushed his father towards the lady friend he hadn’t told his sons about. 

He had also discovered cigarettes in his brother’s pockets. It wasn’t so much the cigarettes that worried Bobby as it was the boys Frank had gotten them from. Bobby sometimes felt as if he hardly knew his brother anymore. 

But then there was Alex. She was his refuge. The hours he spent with her were the only times he ever truly enjoyed himself. They were the only times he was able to push aside the worry and shame. 

She never made fun of him for his worn old clothes, for the fact that he frequently had his nose stuck in a book, or for being rather small and skinny for his age. Of course, Alex herself was small for her age. Still, it was different for a boy than a girl. It was quite easy for other boys to shove him in the playground, or trip him as he went past. All in good fun of course. And they didn’t have to fear retaliation because Bobby was the smallest and lightest boy in his class. 

He had shared this fear with Alex one day, as he pushed her on the swing of a nearby playground. Since she was a year older now, and the playground was so close, she was allowed to meet him there by herself. 

“What if I’m always this short forever?” Bobby asked worriedly. 

“You’ll grow eventually,” Alex replied. 

“But what if I’m still always the smallest in my class?”

“Ha!” Alex replied. “I think I’m the wrong person to ask! I’m the smallest in my class too. But it’s not really a problem, Bobby. No one cares how tall you are.”

“Yeah, but being small makes it easier to get pushed around.” He regretted his words the moment he stopped speaking. Alex dug her heels into the ground to stop the swing, and turned to face him.

“Has someone been pushing you around at school?” she asked. 

“Um… not really,” Bobby replied. It wasn’t a blatant lie – it’s not as though he was picked on all of the time. 

Alex was not having a word of it. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?”

Bobby fidgeted nervously, not answering. The girl was insistent! 

“Who’s been pushing you around?” she demanded. 

“It’s just a bit of joke, Alex,” Bobby said. “Forget I said anything.”

“It’s not a very funny joke,” Alex said furiously. “I’ll beat up anyone who I see hurting you!” 

Bobby couldn’t help it. He snorted with laughter at the very idea of her taking on the boys in his class. 

“Hey!” she snapped. “I could you know! My Daddy taught me some moves!” She stood up and braced her feet, raising her fists. 

“Okay!” Bobby said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I believe you.”

“Good,” Alex replied, dropping her defensive posture. “So next time those boys bother you, I’ll come beat them up.” 

“No,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “It’s best that I just ignore them. I don’t want you getting involved!”

“We’ll see,” Alex replied, dropping onto the swing again. Bobby resumed pushing her, hoping she would forget what he’d said. 

“Are you really that worried about being short, Bobby?” Alex asked. Apparently she hadn’t forgotten. 

“Maybe a bit,” he replied. 

“Well, you’ll always be taller than me,” she offered. 

“Maybe not,” Bobby countered. “You don’t know that for sure. Maybe you’ll have a huge growth spurt and end up being taller than I am.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, giggling. “Maybe I’ll end up looking down at the top of your head all the time.”

“Maybe.”

“But really, Bobby, those boys shouldn’t be pushing y-”

“Oh, never mind,” Bobby said irritably. “I was just complaining, okay? There are plenty of stupid reasons to not like being short.”

“Like what?”

“Like… um…” Bobby scrambled to come up with something to say. “Like, having trouble reaching stuff, and… and Frank said that women like tall men, so maybe I’m never going to have a girlfriend or-”

“Well don’t worry about that,” Alex interrupted. “You’re marrying me, and I don’t care how tall you are.”

For a moment, her statement surprised Bobby, and then he remembered the conversation they had had nearly two years ago. “Well, that’s a relief,” he replied, smiling. 

“You didn’t forget that, did you?” she teased. “You weren’t planning on marrying someone else, were you?”

“No,” Bobby assured her. “There’s no one like you, Alex. Who else would I live in a tree house in Hawaii with?”

“I’m still waiting for that tree house, mister,” she joked. “You’d better not forget.”

“I won’t,” Bobby promised. “Don’t you forget that you said we would have lots of books. I’ll build the tree house if you remember the books.”

“I’ll remember,” she assured him. 

While they were talking, Bobby had continued pushing Alex on the swing. She was now swinging up quite high. At the height of the arc, she released the chains and flung herself from the swing.

Bobby gasped and rushed forward, nearly getting hit with the vacated swing on his way. 

She hit the ground and laughed. “That was really far that time!” 

“Are you okay?” Bobby asked nervously. He held out his hand to help her up, but she was already getting up on her own. 

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing her hands off. 

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Bobby admonished. “You’re going to break your wrist one of these times!”

“You sound like my mother,” Alex said. “Come on Bobby, it’s fun! Even Lizzie likes jumping from the swings.”

“There’s nothing funny about a broken wrist,” Bobby said, quoting his mother. 

“I’m not going to break my wrist,” Alex said. “Now sit down, I’m going to push you.”

“That’s okay,” Bobby replied. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s only fair,” Alex insisted.

“But the bigger person pushes the smaller, and the older person pushes the younger, and the boy pushes the girl-”

“And friends share,” Alex said firmly. “Sit.”

Bobby did, and she took her turn pushing him. It had been years since he had been pushed on a swing, and Bobby had to admit, it was quite nice.

 

Bobby sat in his bedroom floor, absentmindedly rolling his flashlight around in his hands. There was no point in signaling Alex tonight – she was staying overnight at a friend’s house. 

Bobby knew that he would never stay overnight at a friend’s house. He could never invite a friend to his place in return. His parent’s fights, and his mother’s moods, were too unpredictable. Still, he did have a few friends that he visited throughout the day, and that was something. 

Bobby looked out his window, reflecting on the last conversation he had with Alex. 

_“Do you ever pretend that you can touch the sky, Bobby?”_

_“No. It’s impossible.”_

_“I know. But it’s something that Lizzie and I used to do. If you squint towards the moon, and reach your hand out, it’s almost like you could grab it.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“You think that’s dumb.”_

_“No, I don’t.”_

_“Last time we went camping, Daddy picked me and Timmy up so that we could be even closer. We pretended to grab handfuls of stars. The stars are really bright out in the woods.”_

_“I wish I could see them.”_

_“Haven’t you gone camping with your family?”_

_“No.”_

_“Maybe I’ll bring some stars back for you next time we go.”_

_“I’d like that.”_

_“You’ll have to return the favor someday.”_

_“If it were possible, I’d give you every star in the sky.”_

Bobby looked out his window. He pressed his hand against the glass and pretended that the sky was just there, on the other side. But it didn’t really work when most of the view was taken up by the neighbor’s house. 

As quietly as he could, Bobby crept out of his room. He didn’t want to wake his parents. He went out the back door and into the yard. Then he was forced to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling in shock. Frank was already in the yard.

His brother was sitting on the old doghouse Bobby had once used to peek into Alex’s yard. He was smoking a cigarette, and turned in surprise to see his brother. “What are you doing up?” he asked. 

“What are you doing?” Bobby countered. 

“What does it look like?” Frank snapped.

“You’re, uh… you’re smoking.”

Frank rolled his eyes, took another drag, and looked away. 

“You know,” Bobby said hesitantly, “you shouldn’t be smoking. You’re only eleven.”

“And you’re only eight, so I don’t need to listen to you. Go back to bed.”

“Can’t I stay out here too?”

“Fine,” his brother sighed. 

Bobby stood on the spot watching his brother puff on his cigarette for a moment, before he went into the middle of the yard. When Frank was still ignoring him, Bobby decided to also pretend his brother didn’t exist. 

Flopping onto his back, Bobby squinted up towards the sky. He reached up to poke the moon with his finger. 

“What _are_ you doing?” Frank demanded. 

Bobby dropped his arm and rolled onto his stomach to look at his brother. “Do you ever pretend that you can touch the sky, Frank?”

“Why would I do something stupid like that?”

“If you squint at the moon, it looks like you can reach out and touch it,” Bobby said. 

Frank flicked the cigarette butt on the ground, and swept back towards the house. At the door, he turned back towards his brother. “You’re as crazy as Ma,” he snapped, shutting the door behind him. 

Bobby rolled back onto his back and resumed reaching for the sky. He no longer needed to squint – the tears he refused to let out blurred his vision satisfactorily. 

What he had to accept was that the brother who had let him sleep in his bed when their parents were fighting, the brother who he loved, had said what he did just to be hurtful. The brother he knew had slipped away, and was replaced with this cigarette smoking, hurtful boy who disappeared with other boys in order to vandalize the neighborhood. That was only one of the things Bobby suspected they were getting in trouble with. 

“But it’s not his fault,” Bobby said out loud, desperate to defend his brother. “The other boys make him do it. It’s the other boys, not Frank.”

There were still moments when Bobby saw the kind part of his brother. Frank wasn’t always doing bad things. He had been manipulated by circumstances, had fallen in with the wrong crowd, and had adopted a lifestyle that brought out the worst in him. But there was a chance for him to change still. Frank was only eleven after all. 

Losing interest in pretending to touch the sky, Bobby got up and went back into the house. Alex was only six – she could pretend to touch the sky if she wanted to. But Bobby was eight. He pulled himself up taller, his frown deepening. It was time for him to grow up.


	7. Smile, Bobby!

_(Bobby is ten, Alex is eight)_

“Bobby, guess what?” Alex called through the fence. 

“What?” Bobby asked. 

“There’s going to be a carnival!” Alex replied, her voice high with excitement. 

“A carnival?” Bobby echoed. 

“Yeah, and it’s coming really close to here, tomorrow!” Alex replied. “We could even walk there from here.”

“Are you going with your family, then?” Bobby asked. 

“Dad is working,” Alex replied. “Timmy is sick, so Mom has to stay home with him. But she said that Lizzie can take me! You should bring your brother and meet us there.” 

Bobby stood at the other side of the fence, frowning. He could just imagine her face lit up with excitement. But Bobby could hardly entertain the idea that his thirteen-year-old brother would go to a carnival with him. He supposed he could go by himself… but what if he was needed at home? 

“I don’t know…” Bobby said hesitantly. 

“Please, Bobby?” she asked. “It’ll be so much more fun to have a friend there!”

“You’re not meeting your other friends there?” Bobby asked. 

“I guess I could ask,” she said. “But I’d rather go with you!” 

Bobby couldn’t help but smile at that. Despite having other (and probably a lot more fun) friends, she still chose to spend a lot of her free time with him. 

“Well, I’d have to ask Frank if he wanted to come,” Bobby said. 

“I don’t really care if he does, I just want to see you,” Alex said, “but Lizzie keeps saying she hopes he’ll go.”

“Why does Lizzie care?” Bobby asked. 

“She has a big crush on him!” Alex announced. “They’re in the same class at school, and I always hear Frank this, and Frank that! She’s been saying over and over how much she hopes the neighbors will be going to the carnival too. In fact, I think the only reason she agreed to take me is because she’s hoping Frank will go.”

Bobby remained silent, considering this new information. He certainly hoped he wouldn’t be like Frank and Lizzie when he was thirteen! Frank was frequently talking about his opinions of girls, and whether or not they thought he looked good in whatever outfit he was wearing. Bobby loved teasing him about it, which usually caused Frank to aim a fist at the side of his head. But Bobby was usually too quick for him. 

He didn’t remember Frank ever mentioning Alex’s sister, but he was sure the lure of any girl would be enough to convince his brother to come with him. Besides, if Frank was there to distract her, Alex might be able to convince Lizzie to let her go with Bobby. 

“Yeah, I’ll ask him,” Bobby told his friend. 

“Good,” Alex said. “I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow!”

 

“Hey Frank?” Bobby asked later that night. 

“What?”

“Do you want to go to the carnival with me tomorrow?”

“Why would I want to do that?” Frank asked, setting his elbow on Bobby’s head. This was one of his preferred ways to torment his little brother – a reminder of how tiny he still was. It remained one of Bobby’s dearest ambitions to grow tall enough to do the same thing to his brother one day. 

“Well,” Bobby said, ducking out from under Frank’s arm and choosing his words carefully, “I was talking to the neighbor girl today (he thought by pretending he didn’t even know Alex’s name, he might be more likely to convince Frank of his offhand manner), and she said that her big sister was going. And I asked who her sister was, and she said that her name is Lizzie, and she’s in your class at school.”

“Yeah, I know Lizzie,” Frank said. “She’s going to the carnival, huh? I didn’t think she was very mature.”

Bobby almost pointed out that his brother was not the epitome of maturity himself, but he held his tongue. Antagonizing his brother at this point wouldn’t be helpful. 

“She didn’t want to,” Bobby said. “Her mother is making her take her little sister. Her mother can’t go because their little brother is sick – so she told Lizzie she had to take Alex.”

“Hmm,” Frank mused. Lizzie may not be the most popular girl in his class, but she was relatively well-liked, and quite pretty. She was also being forced to take her little sister – making her resentful. Resentful, relatively naïve, and she would probably be grateful for the attention of someone popular… easy pickings. 

“Yeah, sure,” Frank said. “I’ll go with you tomorrow. Mind you, don’t expect to bother me all day! I think I might like to spend some time alone with Lizzie.”

Something about the way his brother had spoken made Bobby hesitate. But he always tried to see the best in his big brother. He should probably just disregard the sense of foreboding. Frank probably just wanted to talk to someone his own age without younger kids bothering him. That was fine. 

“Okay,” Bobby said. “I won’t bother you.”

 

“What are you wearing?” Bobby asked Alex the next day. 

“It’s called a skirt,” she snapped irritably. 

“I know that,” Bobby replied. “I guess I should have said: why are you wearing a skirt?”

“Lizzie wanted me to,” Alex replied. “I _told_ her I don’t like skirts, I _told_ her I’d just get it dirty, but she insisted.” Alex glared down at the offending article of clothing. “Now I’m gonna have to be careful all day. I told Lizzie I’d rather wear shorts. I told her I don’t like skirts, or dresses, of frills, or lace, or ribbons…” she trailed off. “At least she gave up trying to tie bows in my hair.” 

Bobby smirked. He could hardly imagine Alex with bows in her hair. She was a true tomboy. She pulled a baseball cap over her long blonde hair, still irritated with her sister. 

“Hey, I think I have the same one as you,” Bobby said, pulling his own cap onto his head. 

“We match,” she agreed, smiling again. She never seemed to stay angry for too long – even with so serious a crime as forcing her into a skirt. 

As if on cue, Lizzie left the house, her mother and brother following. “Take care of your sister,” her mother said. 

Alex rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine – I can look after myself!”

Bobby rushed back to his house to get his brother. “Come on Frank, they’re leaving!”

Frank also joined them outside, and Bobby was surprised to see his mother following. Frank took Bobby’s hand in his own. Bobby was so surprised, he forgot to wrench it away. 

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Frank told his mother. “I’ll look after Bobby.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows in disbelief. He was ten years old – hardly in need for someone to look out for him! Not to mention that Frank hadn’t taken an interest in his well-being for most of his life. 

Bobby looked back to see his mother smiling proudly; as usual, she had eyes only for her eldest son. She swallowed his lies about looking after his little brother just as easily as all his other lies. 

Then he saw Frank turn to exchange a glance with Lizzie. Of course, Bobby realized. His brother was using him as a way to sympathize with Lizzie. He supposed he should be glad that his brother seemed to be going for sympathy rather than trying to impress her in some other way. 

Lizzie had also taken her sister’s hand, and the two younger children were led down the street by their older siblings. 

 

“I don’t know…” Lizzie trailed off. She, Frank, Bobby, and Alex were standing near a ride whose height restriction didn’t allow the younger children to go on it. 

“We’ll be fine, Lizzie,” Alex insisted. 

“Bobby’s older, he can look out for your sister,” Frank encouraged. 

Bobby nodded in agreement, taking Alex’s hand in his own. He would protect her. She frowned at him, clearly not pleased at the idea of being looked after, but she didn’t pull her hand away either. 

“Mom trusted me to look after my sister,” Lizzie said hesitantly. 

“I’m old enough; I’ll be fine!” Alex snapped. “And I have Bobby with me.”

“Come on Lizzie,” Frank said, smiling his most charming smile at her. “I’ll hold your hand on the ride, if you’re scared.”

Lizzie sighed. “Well… maybe just while we go on this ride…”

“Aw, come on Lizzie!” Alex wheedled. “We won’t go far. We’ll meet you back here in an hour. I swear we will.”

“Just an hour,” Frank agreed. “Come on,” he took her hand and pulled her towards the line for the ride. Lizzie took one look at his charming smile, focussed on her and her alone, and she relented. 

“Okay,” she said. As she followed Frank towards the line she looked back over her shoulder at her little sister. “Alex, you stay with Bobby, okay? Don’t go off on your own!”

Alex simply smiled until her sister turned away again. “Come on,” she told Bobby. “Let’s go exploring.”

She turned to rush in the other direction, releasing his hand, but he re-doubled his grip in response. 

She turned to look at him again. “I don’t think we should risk getting separated,” he told her in response to her questioning look. 

She smiled, and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “We’re not going to get separated,” she assured him. He allowed her to tug him through the crowd of people, content to simply hold her hand and enjoy the time he spent with her. 

“Oh look!” she exclaimed. “A photo booth! I’ve always wanted to try one of these.”

She tugged him over and slipped a few coins into the box. “Come on,” she said. She pulled him in, giggling. “Two nice smiles and two silly pictures!” she informed him. “Smile, Bobby!”

He turned to the camera and obliged, trying not to blink at the flash of light. Before the light could flash again, Alex wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. He also leaned into her. Their cheeks were pressed against each other, making smiling more difficult, and yet, somehow more natural. 

He didn’t have time to contemplate that though, as Alex had released him and stuck her tongue out at the camera. He hastened to copy her, feeling slightly ridiculous, but also rather enjoying himself. 

After the camera flashed for the third time, she turned to face him. “What are we going to do now?” she asked. He shrugged his shoulders in response. Photographs were certainly not his area of expertise. 

“You have to at least smile!” She reached forward to push his cheeks up, forcing his lips to curve upwards. 

"Hey!” he exclaimed, pulling away and reaching over to push her cheeks up in retaliation. She giggled and moved out of the way; he knocked her hat off instead. Still giggling, she reached over to take his as revenge. She had just seized the brim of his cap when the camera flashed again. 

They both turned to look at the camera, startled, and then faced each other again. As soon as their eyes made contact they burst into a renewed fit of giggles. Gasping between laughter, they left the photo booth and took the two sets of photographs when they were ready. 

“The first one turned out really good,” Alex said. Bobby agreed that it was a nice photograph. They were both turned towards the camera, smiling. But he liked the second one even better. Their arms wrapped around each other, they were both grinning widely. 

Alex laughed when she looked at the third one. “Look at us,” she giggled, pointing to the third one. She was leaning forward with her tongue out as far as it would go. He was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth so it seemed as though he was trying to look at it. 

As much as he liked the first three, he knew as soon as he looked at the fourth that it was his favourite. Neither of them looked at the camera; they were facing each other. They were both clearly laughing, her hair sticking up in places after her hat had been sent flying to the ground, his shoulders hunched as he tried to lean away from her. One of her hands was gripping his hat while the other was against him to keep herself from falling. One of his hands was in the process of reaching up to bat her arm away from his hat, the other had reached forward to steady her. He would not let her fall. Even then he sought to protect his best friend. 

Alex seized his hand again. He tucked the photograph carefully into his pocket and followed her. He was certain that this would be a day he would never forget, and more importantly, that she was a person he could never forget.


	8. Brothers and Sisters

That night, Alex and Lizzie sat on the floor of Alex’s bedroom. Alex was in a good enough mood, and grateful enough because her sister had taken her to the carnival, that she was allowing Lizzie to braid her hair. 

Alex had been happily recounting her time at the carnival with Bobby to her sister for the past fifteen minutes. After she had finished telling Lizzie everything, she asked, “So did you have fun with Frank?”

“Oh yes,” Lizzie replied. “He held my hand on all the scary rides. Sometimes, I pretended I was scared even when I wasn’t, just so he’d squeeze my hand. It was so romantic!”

“Uh-huh,” Alex replied. She couldn’t imagine pretending to be scared just so a boy would squeeze her hand. If she wanted Bobby to hold her hand, she’d just ask! But then, Bobby was her friend. Her sister hadn’t played with Frank as much as she had played with Bobby. 

“You know, I think he really likes me,” Lizzie said. 

“I’m sure he does,” Alex assured her sister. “Are you friends now?”

“Well…” Lizzie giggled. 

“What?” Alex asked. 

“Don’t tell Mom or Dad, okay?”

“I won’t tell,” Alex promised. Despite the five year age gap, she and her sister were close. They argued a lot, but they also trusted each other. They still had plenty of times when they got along too. 

“He kissed me,” Lizzie said. 

“Ugh!” Alex exclaimed. “He _kissed_ you? Did you punch him?”

“Did I… what?” Lizzie asked. “Why would I punch him?”

“Because he _kissed_ you!” Alex exclaimed. “Yuck!”

Lizzie burst out laughing at her little sister’s obvious disgust. 

“It’s not funny!” Alex exclaimed. “It’s gross! If Bobby kissed me, I would punch him.”

“You say that now,” Lizzie said through her giggles. 

“Gross,” Alex repeated. 

“Well, I didn’t think it was gross,” Lizzie said, her giggling subsided. “He is so perfect. He asked me to go with him after the carnival.”

“Go where?” Alex asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Lizzie replied. “Somewhere we could be alone, just the two of us…” she trailed off. 

“You didn’t go,” Alex observed. 

“No,” Lizzie replied. “I had to bring you home.”

“I could have come home myself!” Alex snapped, firing up immediately. “You didn’t have to say no to _perfect_ Frank just to-”

“I know you can take care of yourself,” Lizzie soothed. “But Mom and Dad would have been angry. Daddy would have hit the roof if I let you walk home alone, and in order to go somewhere with a boy too.”

“Oh yeah,” Alex agreed. “He would have lost his gasket.”

“Uh, blown a gasket,” Lizzie corrected. “You’re not going to tell him about Frank, right?” 

“I won’t tell,” Alex repeated. 

“Honestly, I still can’t believe he noticed me,” Lizzie reminisced. “Frank G- argh!”

Alex had spun around and literally jumped onto her sister to prevent her from continuing. “Don’t tell me his last name!” she screeched. 

“What is your _problem_?” Lizzie demanded. 

“I just don’t want to know his last name,” Alex said. She had almost discovered Bobby’s last name by accident. 

“You are so _weird_ ,” Lizzie huffed. She shoved her sister away, got up, and flounced out of the room. 

Alex was sorry to have practically attacked her sister, but she didn’t think it was fair to know Bobby’s last name when he didn’t know hers. She closed her bedroom door and then sat on her bed with her flashlight, waiting for the light to go out in Bobby’s room.

 

Bobby sat outside against the fence, waiting for Alex. They were going to walk to the park together. It seemed as though he spent a lot of time waiting for Alex – but he didn’t mind. The time he spent with her was worth any wait. 

He thought about their last talk about the carnival, and their siblings. _“You told Lizzie about us being friends?”_ he had asked. 

_“Only about that day,”_ Alex had replied. _“We’re still secret friends.”_

Alex had also recounted that Lizzie had become completely taken with Frank. _“He kissed her! Yuck! Did you know that?”_

Alex had felt like it was okay to tell Bobby, because he would never tell her parents about Lizzie and Frank. As it turned out, Bobby did know that Frank had kissed Lizzie. His brother had told him about it, although the experience did not have the same romantic notions as when Lizzie told her sister. _“I slipped her the tongue too – and she loved it!”_

Bobby felt rather sick at this recounting. It reminded him of his father telling them about former exploits in nauseating detail. He never said that these experiences had occurred even after he had married their mother, though Bobby suspected they did. He wondered if Frank had guessed the same. He wondered if Frank cared. 

_After the Carnival_

“I thought I might be able to convince her to share some ‘alone time’ with me,” Frank told Bobby, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. In case there was any doubt left in Bobby’s mind as to what his brother was talking about, he added, “I was going to try and cop a feel… but she had to walk her sister home. I feel like she might have been the type to play keep away though, so it’s not much of a loss.”

Bobby had rolled his eyes. Lizzie should consider herself lucky that she had Alex with her. Bobby thought he might tell Alex to warn her sister away from Frank, but what could he say? By the way, my brother intends to use your sister to experiment; you might want to tell her to back off? Yeah, that would go over well. He wasn’t sure Alex would even know what that meant. Not to mention he didn’t want her to think badly of Frank. His brother may not be the kindest boy, but he had his moments. Moments where he still seemed to care. 

“You know,” Frank mused, “in a couple of years, you and the little sister would be old enough to have some fun.”

“We do have fun,” Bobby replied automatically, before he processed exactly what Frank meant. 

“Good for you, little brother,” Frank laughed. 

“No, that’s not… I, uh, I didn’t m-mean…” Bobby stuttered, blushing furiously. He was ten years old! Alex was only eight, for goodness sake! She still thought kissing was gross, let alone what Frank was suggesting…

“Well anyway,” Frank resumed, still smirking at Bobby’s scarlet cheeks, “you and I could take the two sisters out for a good time. Brothers taking on two sisters… it would be a good bonding experience.” He snorted with amusement at this idea. 

“Don’t you think there would be a better way?” Bobby asked. 

“Yeah,” Frank replied. “More sisters.” He smirked at the affronted look on his little brother’s face. 

“No, I mean… a better way to, uh, bond,” Bobby suggested. “We could go… fishing or something.”

“Go fishing?” Frank echoed disbelievingly. 

“Yeah… and with Lizzie,” he said, trying to control the stuttering that forced its way through when he was uncomfortable. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with kissing her, but if you really like her… maybe it would be better if you treated her nice and really meant it rather than as a front to – uh – ‘cop a feel’.” He eyed his brother nervously, waiting for his reaction. 

Frank seemed to hesitate, his bravado fading slightly. “I had my eyes on the prize in the beginning,” he admitted. “But… I liked holding her hand.” He said it with the air of someone admitting a shameful secret. “Just holding her hand, you know? It was nice. And she seemed to just like… me.”

“She does!” Bobby said earnestly. “She does like you, Frank!” 

“Lizzie’s a good girl,” Frank said, his tone hardening. “She’d never go for someone like me.”

“Frank-”

“Aww, come on Bobby!” he interrupted. “Never mind this, getting me talking like a sissy!” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Smoke?” he asked, holding the pack out to Bobby. He shook his head, disappointed. 

“I may not be boyfriend material, but I plan to get very good at certain other ‘activities’.” Frank waggled his eyebrows again. 

Bobby sighed, resigned to the fact that his brother seemed to have slipped away again. However, he still had hope. His brother may be spouting off talk that imitated their father, but he had seemed sincere about liking Lizzie. His brother did have a good heart... he was just lost. 

The two brothers sat in silence while Frank finished his cigarette. He pulled out the pack again. “Smoke?” he repeated, holding out the pack to Bobby, who also shook his head again. 

“Suit yourself,” Frank said, pulling out another one. Bobby wasn’t really paying attention until his brother lit it. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

“What is that?” he asked. 

“A smoke,” Frank replied. 

“That’s not a cigarette,” Bobby replied. “It sure doesn’t smell like one.”

“I didn’t say it was tobacco I was smoking,” Frank replied. 

“Marijuana?” Bobby whispered, as though awed and slightly frightened by the idea.

Frank snorted at his brother’s use of the proper name, but offered a response nonetheless. “Yeah, it’s pot.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“From a buddy of mine,” Frank replied elusively. He caught sight of his brother’s look of concern, and smiled reassuringly. “It’s just a joint, Bobby. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Bobby wished his brother wouldn’t tempt fate with that question. Something bad could always happen… his brother should very well know that, they grew up in the same house, with the same parents. All the same, he couldn’t think of an argument. It was just a joint, after all…

“Helps me loosen up,” Frank said, savouring the smoke in his mouth. It occurred to Bobby that his brother didn’t seem to be a novice when it came to smoking joints. But maybe they weren’t so different from cigarettes. He wouldn’t know. 

“You want a puff?” Frank asked, holding the joint towards Bobby. 

“No thanks,” Bobby replied, holding his breath as the acrid smoke wafted closer to his nose. Frank shrugged again. 

“You sure you don’t want a cig, either?”

 _Bonding,_ Bobby told himself as he reached hesitantly to the pack Frank offered. He pulled out a cigarette, rolling it around in his fingers experimentally. 

“Here,” Frank held out his lighter, a flame dancing on the end. He lit it, and Bobby moved it closer to his lips, still hesitant. Frank nodded encouragingly, and he placed it between his lips. He inhaled deeply, and was almost immediately hunched forward, gagging and choking. 

“Jesus, don’t suck it all back at once!” Frank exclaimed, thumping him on the back. 

Bobby couldn’t answer. He was still choking, and trying to keep himself from vomiting. After a long hacking fit, he finally sat up again, red-faced and wheezy. He handed the cigarette back to Frank, who hastily put it out. 

“Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea,” Frank said. 

“You think?” Bobby gasped. His throat was on fire. 

“Don’t get sassy with me,” Frank admonished. He took one last puff on his joint, blowing the last of the foul smoke out slowly. He then turned back to his brother. “You don’t look too good,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you back inside.” 

He took Bobby’s arm and helped pull him to his feet, leading him back towards his room. For one wild moment, Bobby almost asked to stay in his brother’s room for the night. But those days were long gone.


	9. The First Misunderstanding

“Lizzie’s all upset because Frank is treating her like she doesn’t even exist,” Alex told Bobby. He was pushing her on the swing at the park again. “And after he kissed her, she thought that he really liked her…”

Bobby didn’t answer. How could he possibly explain that Frank was leaving Lizzie alone because he _did_ actually like her? Frank had been going on about some girl named Marcy, and Bobby had asked him, “But what about Lizzie? I thought you liked her?”

“I _told_ you,” Frank had huffed impatiently. “Lizzie’s looking for a boyfriend. That’s not me. Now Marcy… she can show a guy a good time.”

“You mean… uh…”

“And she’s got big titties,” Frank had added. 

Bobby had let the subject drop after that. He was not interested in a tale involving Marcy and her ‘big titties’, although Frank relayed it to his father on a rare occasion he was home. Their father had encouraged him in pursuing this girl. Bobby would have preferred that Frank instead perfected his ‘boyfriend’ skills, and started seeing Lizzie. Maybe he just didn’t know enough about the world yet, as his brother did. He was constantly being told that he read too much. 

“Life isn’t a fairy tale, little brother,” Frank reminded him regularly. Bobby already knew that. But he didn’t see why they couldn’t at least _try_ to make it different. 

“Hey!” Alex said, drawing Bobby back to the present. “Are you listening to me?”

“Sorry,” Bobby replied. 

“That’s okay,” she replied. “I wasn’t saying anything important anyway.”

Something about her tone of voice made him frown. “Is everything alright, Alex?” he asked.

“Oh, sure,” she replied unconvincingly. Bobby felt guilt wash over him. She had been trying to tell him something important and he hadn’t been paying attention. 

“Please tell me,” he begged. 

“Why should I?” she snapped, suddenly irritated. “You never tell me anything.”

“That’s not true!” Bobby said. 

“Oh yeah?” Alex asked. She was really fired up now. Bobby had learned over the past four years that Alex became angry and defensive when she was upset. He tried not to get too angry with her now. “Well how about this – I’ll tell me what’s bothering me if you tell me what’s bothering you,” she snapped. She began pumping her legs even harder. Her feet nearly collided with his face as the swing came back towards him. 

He stepped aside and contemplated her proposal. What could he tell her? That he had seen his father with his hands up ‘Mrs. Across the Street’s’ shirt two nights ago? That last week his mother had sent him sprawling down the stairs in one of her delusions? That by the time he woke up, crumpled in a heap at the foot of the stairs, she had gone? That it took him three hours to finally find her, wandering the streets and warding off imaginary beings with a two-by-four? That rather than help look for his mother, Frank had been out doing drugs with his friends? That he had found something he thought might be cocaine in his brother’s room? 

He could not tell her any of those things. He didn’t want to lie to her, but what choice did he have? So, since he was forced to lie, he told the biggest lie of all. “There’s nothing bothering me,” he said. 

She dug her heels into the ground, stopping the swing. She jumped up and tossed the swing aside, advancing on him. Though he was still bigger than her, he backed up nervously. She stopped when she was right in front of him. 

“You. Are. Lying. To. Me,” she accused, a pause between each word, making them sharp. 

“Alex-”

“Friends don’t lie to each other, Bobby,” she said. “Especially not best friends.”

She waited, her face inches from his, her angry eyes boring into his. He didn’t know what to say. 

When he hadn’t spoken after she glared at him for a time, she said, “If you’re going to lie to me, we can’t be best friends anymore.”

Panic filled him as her words sunk in. She had said it in a deadly calm voice. She was completely serious. He tried to find something to say, anything that would make her change her mind. 

When he still hadn’t spoken, Alex turned sharply and stomped away. Though her entire body language said ‘angry’, what she was feeling was hurt. He obviously didn’t like her as much as she had thought. She didn’t understand that he couldn’t possibly explain. She misunderstood his silence, which was due to panic, as meaning that he didn’t care. She stomped angrily away to prevent herself from letting her anger give way to sadness. She didn’t want to cry. 

Watching her leave, Bobby only saw the anger. Obviously their friendship meant more to him than it did to her. He misunderstood her anger, thinking it meant that she didn’t care, when in reality it was because she cared a great deal. 

He couldn’t let her go. He had to stop her – he didn’t want to lose her as his best friend! “Wait!” he called desperately. 

She did. She stopped, and waited. But he didn’t say anything else. He really did try. His mouth moved soundlessly, but he couldn’t find the words. In that moment, he wanted to tell her the whole, sorry, tale. He wanted to tell her how his family continued to slip away from him, in different ways, every day. But he had been keeping secrets for too long; he had been withdrawing from others for too long. He couldn’t make his mouth utter the thoughts that chased themselves through his mind. The only safe place was in his head, and his voice would not take the risk. 

She stood and waited for a long time. Finally, she had to admit that he had nothing to say. Forcing the tears not to fall, she left. He didn’t call her back again, though she listened. 

He flopped down into the vacated swing. How had things gotten so bad, so quickly? He didn’t understand. He just wanted his best friend. He just wanted Alex.

 

Alex sat in her bedroom that night, clutching her flashlight and staring intently out the window. _Come on Bobby_ , she thought. _I’m sorry_. It occurred to her now how lacking their flashlight signals really were – no sign for ‘I’m sorry’. 

If he would just signal her something, anything. Even just telling her he was upset. But he didn’t. She waited, her hand clenched around the flashlight, and her eyes swimming with tears. But with each passing minute he didn’t communicate, she grew more and more disappointed. 

She fell asleep waiting for a sign that never came.

 

Bobby tapped his flashlight against his leg rhythmically. Please, Alex, he thought. I’m sorry. He resolved that if she ever spoke to him again, they needed to make a flashlight sign for ‘I’m sorry’. 

He ran through the signs they did have in his mind. _Are you awake?_ No, that wouldn’t work. You didn’t just ask someone who was your best friend, and now wanted nothing to do with you, if they were awake. _See you tomorrow_. No, she probably wouldn’t want to see him tomorrow. He could send her a smile. But then she might think he was happy that she was angry. He could say he was upset. But there was nothing else she could say to that anyway, and he doubted she’d care. She had been so angry. 

Maybe she was in her room right now, laughing at him. Frank sometimes laughed at him when he was upset. Of course, that was usually when Frank was high. 

He considered simply turning his flashlight on and making crazy patterns all over her window, but he didn’t want to make her even angrier. If she would just send him a signal, then he would respond. But she didn’t. 

He finally fell asleep very late that night, his flashlight clamped tightly in his hand and held close against him – a lifeline to his friend.

 

There was nothing else she could think of to do. Alex had squished herself under the fence and wriggled her way into Bobby’s backyard. She hadn’t used the hole under the fence for some time now, and she was surprised to learn that it was a tight fit. They normally went to the park now. 

Alex settled herself against the fence to wait. This way she would see as soon as Bobby left the house, and she could immediately run up to him and apologize. She hoped he wouldn’t turn and go right back into the house as soon as he saw her. 

The back door opened and Alex looked up expectantly. But it was not Bobby who was leaving the house. It was a man. This must be his father. 

Alex knew she wouldn’t have time to get back under the fence quickly enough. She hadn’t even considered the fact that one of his parents might leave the house out the back door before he did. 

The man caught sight of her and frowned. Alex swallowed her nervousness and tried to look braver than she felt. “Hello,” she said, and was proud that her voice didn’t waver at all. 

The man didn’t reply. She got up and walked over to him. “I’m waiting for Bobby,” she said. As she got closer to him, she tried not to wrinkle her nose. He reeked, and with a smell she knew well. She felt her spine stiffen and had to resist the urge to run away. 

“Robert?” the man echoed, as if he was unaware that someone could possibly be interested in speaking with his younger son. “Are you a playmate of his?”

Alex frowned in distaste at the word. She also wanted to protect their ‘secret’ friendship. Assuming of course, that Bobby didn’t hate her now. “My sister knows his brother,” Alex explained. “She wanted me to pass on a message.” She realized, too late, that he would now question why she was waiting for Bobby instead of Frank.   
She was surprised when he said instead, “You’re Marcy’s sister?”

“Uh, no,” Alex replied. “I’m Lizzie’s sister.”

“Huh,” the man replied. “I thought you didn’t look much like you could be related to the girl Frank described.” The man looked her over, taking in the tangled hair, the baggy t-shirt, the dirt-stained jeans. She wasn’t much of a looker, in his opinion. 

Alex suddenly felt self-conscious at his staring. She should have brushed her hair before heading over. She brushed some dirt off of her pants while waiting for him to look somewhere else. 

William Goren shook his head. It figured that his younger son would hang around with riffraff like this sorry-looking girl. Frank could certainly do much better. Bobby had always been a misfit, like this little tomboy probably was. 

“Excuse me, sir?” Alex finally asked when it seemed like he wasn’t going to say anything. “Is Bobby home?”

The man spun around and headed for the door. He opened it, leaned in, and bellowed, “ROBERT!”

Alex flinched at his shout. Perhaps it was the smell that clung to him, or the way he glowered at her, or maybe the way he called Bobby Robert. But she didn’t like this man. 

“ROBERT!” William thundered again when Bobby didn’t appear fast enough. 

Alex heard scurried footsteps leading to the door. “Yes, sir?” She recognized Bobby’s voice. As if he called his father sir! Alex still called her own father Daddy. 

“Some ugly little thing’s here to see you,” William replied, obviously thinking he was speaking quietly enough. He wasn’t. 

Alex bit her lip and tried not to let his offhand comment get to her. She knew she wasn’t as pretty as her mother or sister, but no one had ever called her ugly before. She looked down at the ground. 

Bobby poked his head out the door, and felt his heart leap at the sight of her standing there. His joy was diminished as he saw her biting her lip and staring at the ground. She had heard what his father had said. 

William had brushed past Bobby into the house. Bobby spun around to shout, “She’s NOT ugly!” and slammed the door, which he knew he would pay for later. 

Alex looked up at him. Like his father, Bobby looked her over up and down. Unlike his father, he didn’t see messy hair or baggy clothes. He saw the familiarity of his best friend, and he didn’t think she was ugly at all. In fact, he saw right past all the things his father had observed and saw the most beautiful girl he had ever met, in his opinion anyway. 

Her eyes met his, and she offered a tentative smile. And then, they had no idea who spoke first, but almost at the same time they said, “I’m sorry!”

She rushed over and hugged him, and he responded in kind. Then, she followed the same routine that had been enforced by her mother when she apologized to her siblings. Saying she was sorry, giving a hug, and then finishing with, “I love you,” she said. 

The words fell from her lips with ease. She had plenty of opportunities to say those three words. There was no shortage of love in her family. Bobby, on the other hand, was shocked by her utterance. He hadn’t had much of a chance to practice these words, and they were spoken by him like a foreign language, “I love you too.”

“Can we still be best friends?” she asked. 

“Yes,” Bobby replied. “Will you still marry me when we’re grown up?”

“Of course,” she replied, giggling. It had become their practice to joke about the plans they had made when they were four years younger. 

And so, in the way that children can, they went back to their friendship as if nothing ever happened. This was the first time a misunderstanding had led to hurt feelings between them, but it wouldn’t be the last.


	10. What Was Wrong

Alex marched up to the front door of Bobby’s house and pounded on it. “BOBBY!” she yelled. “Bobby, get out here!” 

The door opened, revealing not Bobby, but Frank. Without even acknowledging him with a hello, she bellowed, “Go get Bobby!”

Frank was shocked by this little girl shouting at him. He vaguely recognized her as Lizzie’s little sister. She was visibly shaking, her face angry and red. With one hand she pointed at him while saying, “Go and get Bobby, Frank!” The other hand gripped that of a little boy who was holding his cheek and sobbing. 

“What’s going on here?”

“GO!” Alex screamed. Frank turned to do as she’d demanded. He had no idea what was going on. 

“Bobby?” Frank called. His brother poked his head out of his room. “Did you smack some kid in the face?”

“What?” Bobby asked sharply. “No! Why would you ask me that?”

“Because there’s a pissed off girl outside demanding to see you, and she’s got a little guy with her who’s been hit in the face,” Frank replied. “She’s that neighbor kid, Ally or whatever…”

Bobby didn’t bother to correct him; he simply flew down the stairs (jumping the last few steps) and launched himself at the door. Sure enough, Alex was standing on the front step, gripping her little brother’s hand and looking ready to kill.

“What happened?” Bobby asked. 

“She hit Timmy!” 

“What?” Bobby asked. “Who hit Timmy?”

“Auntie!” Alex spat, putting as much venom into the one word as she possibly could. “She was drunk! And she got mad at Timmy for no reason, and when he tried to run away… She. Hit. Him!” Alex punctured each of the words with a stomp of her foot. As she was talking, Timmy’s sobs subsided into hiccoughs. He looked up at Bobby with wide eyes. 

“Timmy, you stay here with my friend Bobby,” Alex instructed. “He’ll keep you safe.”

“What are you going to do?” Bobby asked. 

“I’m going to teach her a lesson!” Alex snarled, pounding her fist into the open palm of her other hand. 

“Alex, you can’t go beat up your aunt,” Bobby said reasonably. 

Timmy threw his arms around his big sister’s waist. “Don’t leave me!” he wailed. 

“You’ll be fine with Bobby, Timmy,” Alex said, trying to pull herself from his grip. Her first priority had been to get Timmy away from her aunt, and safe. Now she was going to give into the rage she had felt, seeing her little brother flung to the ground. 

Alex and Bobby both turned to look at Alex’s house as the front door was flung open. It revealed a man pulling a woman from the house – Alex’s father and aunt. Alex wrenched herself from her brother’s grip and raced back towards the house. 

“Alex!” Bobby and Timmy yelled together. Bobby wanted to stop her from getting in trouble, but he couldn’t leave Timmy. She had trusted him to protect her little brother. He pulled the four year old up from where he had thrown himself to the ground. 

Not slowing down, Alex hit the woman with full running force, and began hitting every inch of her she could get to. The woman seemed dazed; she didn’t even try to fend off the eight year old spitfire hitting her repeatedly. 

“Alexandra!” her father bellowed. With one hand still gripping the woman’s arm, her father seized the back of her shirt and yanked her away. “That’s enough.” 

Alex stopped fighting at his words. She had great respect for her father, and Bobby suspected he was probably one of the few people she would have responded to at that point. “She hit my Timmy,” Alex said, in way of an explanation. 

“I know,” her father said heavily. He turned back to his sister. “I can’t have you here anymore. I won’t let you injure my children. If you come back here, I will arrest you.” 

So Alex’s father was a police officer. Bobby saw how he had made everything better for Alex and Timmy. If he became a police officer, could he make everything better for his own family?

He also now knew what had been bothering Alex the day of their argument. He was even sorrier that he hadn’t been listening when she tried to talk to him. Alex came back to get Timmy while her father made sure his sister left. 

“Thanks,” she said, while Timmy hugged her. 

Bobby smiled sadly in response. Perhaps Alex hadn’t been as innocent as he’d always thought.

 

“So that’s what you didn’t want to tell me?” Bobby asked. 

Alex nodded. She and Bobby were sitting under the slide at the park. “It was just… I don’t know,” she sighed. “I thought that maybe if I didn’t talk about it…”

“Then it wasn’t real?” Bobby finished for her. 

She nodded miserably. “Stupid, right?”

“No,” Bobby replied. “It’s not stupid at all.”

“I was scared of her,” Alex admitted. “I don’t like being scared of anything, or anyone.”

“She was pretty scary,” Bobby said. “I’d be scared of her too.”

“Your Dad is pretty scary,” Alex ventured. 

“I guess,” Bobby replied. “He’s not really around that much. When he is though, he’s not so scary.”

“Not until he’s really drunk?” Alex guessed. “That’s how it was with Auntie too. She’d promise to stop, but I could smell it on her. When she’d only had a few, she would tell me stories, or play games with me. But when she drank more, she would start saying mean things. She’d get more and more angry and scary and… it was awful. Especially when Daddy wasn’t there to put her right.”

Alex was kneading the sand with her fists, a faraway look in her eyes. Bobby would never have guessed that this was going on in her house. He’d always thought that she’d had an ideal perfect life. He supposed you could never know for sure what went on behind closed doors. Not until someone told. And Alex – she hadn’t told because she’d been frightened and ashamed. Not until she was pushed over the edge, furious. And even then, the full story hadn’t come out until she felt safe again. 

Bobby wondered if that was what it was like for him too. If Alex thought that he had a perfect life. He wondered if he could ever tell her otherwise. But no, of course he couldn’t. Because he would never feel safe. There was no one to make everything better in his family. 

“I never knew that it was like that for you,” Bobby said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Alex replied. “I never told you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Bobby asked. Perhaps there was some way to get around the shame and guilt, to share a bit with another person? Perhaps Alex could tell him how.

Alex bit her lip, thinking. “I suppose I didn’t want it to be real. If I didn’t tell, it wasn’t real. I suppose there are some things that are too scary, or sad, or that hurt too much to tell anyone… even your best friend.”

She took Bobby’s hand in hers, and looked up to meet his eyes. And he knew then, he could tell from the emotion in her eyes that she knew. She knew that he had secrets, dark secrets. She knew that his life was not idealistic. She knew that he pretended that he didn’t hurt as much as he did. 

“I’m sorry I got mad before,” she said. “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. But if you ever do, I’m always here to listen.”

Bobby smiled at her. He wished there was a way that he could tell her how much that meant to him. “And I’ll always listen to anything you want to tell me too,” he said. 

Alex dropped his hand and frowned. “Bobby?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Yes?”

“I don’t know what happened to Auntie now. Daddy won’t tell me. But I’m glad she’s gone. I don’t even know if she’s okay, but I’m glad she’s gone. Does that make me bad?” She looked up at him, anxious for his opinion. 

“That doesn’t make you bad, Alex,” Bobby answered. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be safe.”

“She’s still my Auntie,” Alex said, though she was obviously relieved by Bobby’s answer. “I sometimes tried to protect her, but when she hit Timmy…”

“You wanted to believe she’d get better, right?” Bobby asked. It was a feeling he was only too familiar with. 

Alex nodded. “She sometimes didn’t even remember what she’d done. One time, she locked me in the closet. She said I was giving her a headache, and she didn’t want me bothering her. She could barely even stand up, and she was talking so it was hard to understand what she was saying. I begged her to let me out, but she told me to shut up – I was making her headache worse.”

“Mom and Timmy were upstairs, but if I yelled for them it would make Auntie angry since she’d said I should be quiet. So I waited in the closet for a long time before Mom finally found me and let me out. I told her that I’d been playing and locked myself in by accident.”

“Why?” Bobby asked. “Why did you protect her?”

Alex frowned. “Because when Mom let me out, I saw that Auntie was sleeping on the couch. She never remembers the stuff she did before she sleeps for a long time anyway. What’s the point in getting Mom angry at her when she wouldn’t know she did it anyway?”

Bobby nodded, understanding. He always thought the same thing about his mother – yes, she hurt him, but it wasn’t really her fault. How could he blame her when she didn’t really know what she was doing? But he thought it was still different with Alex’s aunt, because she had done it to herself. Like his father and alcohol, or Frank and his drugs. 

“One time, when my dad was drunk, he said he was going to start teaching me how to be a man,” Bobby confessed. “He took me outside and set up a bunch of tin cans in the backyard, then handed me a gun. He said for every shot I missed, he’d take his own shot.” Bobby levelled an imaginary gun. “And he wouldn’t be aiming at the cans.”

“He threatened to shoot you?” Alex demanded, shocked. 

“Well, he wouldn’t really,” Bobby assured her. It was just meant to scare me, but I thought I’d better not push my luck and take the best aim I could.”

Alex was furious that Bobby’s father could make a threat like that – even if he didn’t intend to follow through with it. She was even less pleased by the offhand manner Bobby was using to relate this experience. This was, by the sounds of it, not even close to being the most terrifying experience of his young life.

“What happened?” Alex asked. 

“Well, as it turns out,” Bobby said, “I’m a pretty good shot, so he only had to fire once.” He said it modestly, without even a hint of pride that he had found something he was talented at.

“What did he shoot?” Alex asked. 

“The ground,” Bobby replied. “Right near my feet too, but I knew better than to move. When Ma asked me what happened to make a hole in the ground in the backyard, I told her that I did it.”

“That must have been terrifying,” Alex said, awed. Their two experiences had similar aspects to them, but in her opinion, they weren’t really all that comparable. Alex had known the whole time she was in the closet that someone would come to rescue her. Bobby didn’t have that same luxury. 

Bobby shrugged. “A lot less terrifying than being locked in a closet, I’d imagine. Anyway, Dad’s a lot of fun, although less scary when he’s not drunk, or angry.” Which wasn’t actually that often, but Bobby always tried to see the best in people. 

“Bobby,” Alex offered hesitantly, “if your Dad scares you, you can tell me and I’ll tell Daddy, and he can make your dad stop. He’s a police detective – he helps keep people safe.”

Bobby was shaking his head adamantly. “No, my Dad just likes a good time. He doesn’t scare me!”

“Okay,” Alex replied. “Me neither.” 

Was a shared lie easier to believe? No, Bobby decided, it wasn’t. But it was easier to ignore. 

“Bobby?” Alex asked again. “If you’re scared or upset, you can still tell me. I won’t tell my Dad if you don’t want me to.”

“I know,” Bobby replied. He met her gaze, and wondered if he had managed to find his best friend as some sort of gift from fate for all the things he’d suffered from his family.


	11. The Definition of Innocence and Beauty

_(Bobby is eleven, Alex is nine)_

“Remind me why exactly we’re reading a book about witchcraft in the Middle Ages?” Alex asked. It had been Bobby’s turn to choose a book for them to read, and he had chosen another eccentric topic. 

“It’s actually quite an interesting subject,” Bobby replied.

“Do you want to know about an interesting subject?” she asked, suddenly animated. “Ricky Hanson asked me to marry him today.”

“Who’s Ricky Hanson?” Bobby demanded, frowning. 

“He’s a boy in my class at school,” Alex replied. “His best friend asked Janine Watson to marry him yesterday, and so Ricky thought he should ask someone and he asked me.”

“You’re only nine – you can’t get married!”

“Not real married,” Alex said disdainfully. “It’s the newest thing to get married on the playground at recess. Personally, I think we’re all a bit too old for getting pretend married, but whatever.”

“What did you say?” Bobby asked. 

“I said no, of course,” Alex replied. “I’m not marrying someone just because he wants to copy his best friend!”

“And you can’t marry anyone but me,” Bobby added. 

Alex smirked. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” Bobby said quickly. “I just don’t think you should go back on a promise is all.”

“I didn’t promise you anything,” Alex replied, still smirking. 

“Did too!”

“Did not.”

“Did _too_!”

“Not, not, not!”

“You did – you said we should get married about a month after we first met,” Bobby argued. 

“Then technically,” Alex replied, “You made the promise. I just suggested the idea. Besides,” she added, “I was only four back then. You can’t trust what a four-year-old says.” 

“You were supposed to marry me,” Bobby muttered sullenly. 

“Maybe I will,” she said seriously. “I’ll just have to divorce Ricky first.” She cast a wicked grin in his direction.

“You said you weren’t going to marry Ricky!” Bobby exclaimed. 

Alex burst out laughing at the affronted look on his face. She attempted to straighten her face into a solemn expression. “I won’t,” she said. 

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good,” Bobby said. “Now promise to marry me.”

Alex started laughing again, and rolled her eyes. 

“I’m serious,” Bobby replied. “Promise.”

“No way!” Alex replied. “I’m not making a promise like that any-” she broke off in a squeal as Bobby launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around her and pinning her own arms down. 

“Promise!” he repeated, giggling. “Promise me, or I’m never gonna let you go!”

“Bobby!” she yelled, laughing too. “Let me go!” 

“Never!”

She pulled against his arms, causing them to both move around in an awkward dance. “Let me go,” she laughed. 

“Not until you promise!”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Okay, I’ll marry you!”

He released his grip, and the two of them tumbled onto the grass, still laughing. 

“I knew you were jealous,” she told him. 

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But may I also remind you that just last year I asked if you’d still marry me when we grow up, and you said ‘of course!’.”

“Oh right,” Alex agreed, remembering. 

They sat in silence for a few seconds. “What if we do grow up and marry someone else though?” Alex asked. “What if we’re not even friends anymore when we’re grown-ups?”

Bobby frowned. “Of course we’ll still be friends.”

“My parents aren’t friends with anyone they knew when they were kids,” Alex argued. 

“I can’t imagine not being friends with you,” Bobby replied slowly. 

“Me neither.”

“Alex?”

“Uh-huh?”

“What I’d like is for you to be happy,” Bobby said seriously. He rolled onto his side to look at her. She was gazing at the sky with an unreadable expression. “So,” Bobby continued, “If marrying someone else someday would make you happy, that would be okay. I was just kidding around you know. You don’t have to marry me.”

“I know,” Alex replied. 

“But I am serious when I say that I want you to be happy,” Bobby clarified. He flopped back over into his back and looked up at the sky too. “Marry someone who makes you happy.” He thought bitterly of his own parents, who barley even spoke anymore. Stealing a glance at Alex, who was still looking up at the sky, he tried to imagine her grown up. He thought of his own mother, terrified – and terrifying. 

“Don’t marry someone you don’t love,” he said, still thinking of his own parents. He thought of the old photographs of his mother: smiling, happy, beautiful. How he didn’t see any of that in her anymore. “Marry someone,” Bobby instructed, “who makes you smile. Someone who lets you stay beautiful.”

Alex snorted and turned towards him. “I’m not beautiful,” she huffed. 

“Of course you are,” Bobby replied. 

“I thought friends were supposed to be honest?” she snapped. “Have you ever looked at my mother or sister? That’s beauty. Not me.”

“I’m not lying,” Bobby insisted. 

“Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder,” Alex quipped. She turned away from him. 

Bobby rolled towards her, so that his side was pressed against hers. What was the definition of beauty anyway? How can one person be described as being beautiful, and another person who looked nothing like the first be beautiful also? How could someone be described as beautiful by one person, and not another? 

She turned back towards him, slipping one of her hands into his. “You should marry someone like that too, Bobby,” she replied, addressing his earlier statement. “Someone who really makes you happy.”

“You make me happy,” he ventured. “And,” he added mischievously, “you did promise to marry me.”

“I said that because you had me trapped,” Alex argued, though she was smiling. “My Dad says things said under distress can’t be used in court. He lost a case to it once. I heard him talking to his partner about it.”

“Really?” Bobby asked. “They make exceptions when people are distressed? I would think that would be a lot of the time when they’ve been arrested.”

“I think that’s what Dad said,” Alex replied. 

“Sure he did,” Bobby replied, smirking. “You wouldn’t be trying to get out of marrying me, would you?”

“I thought you said I could marry whoever makes me happy?” she countered. 

“Yes,” Bobby said, suddenly serious. “I did.”

“And you should too,” Alex added.

“The only person I’d want to marry is you.”

Alex tried to determine if he was serious or not, then decided it didn’t matter. Sometimes he was too serious – especially for being only eleven. “We’re too young to marry anyone now anyway. Pretend marriage is one thing; I don’t even want to think about the real thing!”

Bobby crawled back over to where the book they had been reading together lay abandoned. “Well, let’s read again then,” he suggested.

“Okay,” Alex agreed, also crawling over. They settled with their backs against the large tree, and Bobby opened the book. It was still their habit to read together, even now. Every so often they would break off to discuss some part of the book, or end up talking about something else completely. They sat together without paying any attention to the other people in the park, until an older couple had stopped in front of them. 

“So nice to see young people reading rather than causing a ruckus,” the man commented. 

Bobby and Alex looked up and smiled politely. 

“What is it you’re reading, dears?” the woman asked. 

Bobby held up the book for them to read the title. 

“Witchcraft, huh?” the man asked. He smiled down at the two children. “Well, we’ll let you continue to read then.”

“Thank you sir,” Bobby replied. 

As the couple turned to leave, the man exchanged a glance with his wife. “That young lady certainly doesn’t need witchcraft does she?” he asked lightly. “She’s got him under a spell without even trying.” His wife smiled back, nodding in agreement. 

Alex turned to Bobby, her eyebrows raised. He shrugged his shoulders in response, as though he had no better an idea of what the man meant than she did. 

 

William Goren pulled his suitcase from the house and towards the car where his latest fling was waiting. He’d had it with Frances. Sure the doctors said she was sick. What did they know? He suspected that it was all just a ploy – for attention or sympathy. Or maybe trying to get some kind of power over him. It was absolutely unacceptable. 

If she was really sick anyway, the drugs should have helped. Then again, he didn’t make sure she took them. It wasn’t his responsibility. In fact, he planned to divorce her, at some point. _She_ wasn’t his responsibility.

He thought fleetingly of his sons just as he went to get in the car. But children were the responsibility of their mothers. The boys were Frances’s problem. They weren’t his responsibility. 

Unknown to him, the younger of the boys he had abandoned without even a simple goodbye stood at his window and watched the car pull away. 

 

Alex woke to a tapping sound on her window. She pulled the blankets up to her eyes and peered around her room. No one was in it. Then she heard the tapping again. She slipped out of her bed and tip-toed over to the window just in time to see a couple of tiny pebbles hitting the glass. 

Alex pushed her window open, feeling as though she was in some silly movie as she stuck her head out and looked down. “Bobby?” she asked. 

He was standing outside her house in his pajamas, where he had apparently been throwing pebbles at her window to try and wake her. That was something that he had never done before. 

He signalled wildly for her to come down. She frowned, about to ask why when the moonlight caught the tear tracks down his cheeks. 

Holding a hand up to tell him to wait, she then turned and grabbed a sweater. Pulling it on ever her nightgown, she went down the stairs as quietly as she could manage and slipped into her sandals before slowly pushing open the back door. Shutting the door silently, she turned and jogged over to where Bobby had settled on the ground near the cedar trees. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. The question hardly seemed worthy of the state he was in. Bobby was sitting hunched on the ground, sobbing hysterically. He was gasping for breath, while tears streamed down in such quick succession there was no hope in stemming the flow. 

“I-” he tried, breaking off in a body-wracking sob. He looked up to meet her gaze for the first time, his eyes wide. She felt her own stomach clench at the grief in his eyes. 

“S-sorry… sorry I woke you,” he amended, pulling air into his lungs only to start sobbing again. 

“Don’t worry about that at all,” she assured him. “I’m glad you did.” She thought of how he had seemed nearly carefree yesterday, only to have his world crash down today. She didn’t yet know what was causing his heart to break, but she did know that no matter how he acted, he was always carrying a burden. He was just a little bit too serious all the time. She suspected that he had lost his innocence a long time ago. What really constituted innocence anyway?

She pulled him close to her and held on tight, trying to remember all the soothing words her mother had ever whispered. His tears soaked through her sweatshirt. He wrapped his own arms around her, thinking that he might just have broken into a thousand tiny pieces if he hadn’t had someone to cling to. 

“He’s g-gone,” Bobby managed. 

“Who’s gone?” Alex asked. She was still holding him, rocking slightly. She gazed, frowning, at one of the cedar trees in the yard. 

“My… Dad,” he answered. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm himself down. “He’s left us.”

Alex was certainly used to having a father who disappeared all the time. She was proud of her father and the work that he did, but it still hurt when he had to be away all of the time. “When’s he coming back?” she asked sympathetically. 

“He’s not.” At this admission, the tears started to well up in Bobby’s eyes again. “He’s not coming back this time.”

Alex released her hold on her friend in order to look at him. “What?” she asked. “How do you know?”

“I just know,” Bobby replied. “It was different this time. He packed up all his stuff and he’s not coming back – I know it; I’m sure.”

Alex shuffled closer to him, placing one arm over his shoulders so that he could lean into her. “You know, there are other kids whose parents get divorced, and their Dads still see them. I know it’s not the same, but-”

“No!” Bobby shouted, startling Alex. She looked quickly to her house, crossing her fingers that her parent’s bedroom light wouldn’t turn on. 

“Shh,” she hissed. 

“It’s not like that,” Bobby confessed miserably. “He’s not coming back ever. He didn’t even say goodbye to us. He was just going to disappear. He’s really gone, Alex. He’s really gone and he isn’t ever coming back.”

Alex didn’t bother to ask him how he could be so sure. Sometimes, you just know things. Instead she pulled him close to her again, whispering, “I’m sorry, Bobby.”

“How could he leave us?” Bobby wailed. Then again, angrier. “How _could_ he _leave_ us?” 

He was still crying, but now he swiped furiously at his tears, anger seeming to course through him. “I hate her,” he whispered furiously. 

“It’s okay to be angry at your dad right now,” Alex assured him. “I would be too.”

“I hate _her_.”

Alex blinked in confusion. She would have expected him to be furious with his father. But Bobby wasn’t talking about him. 

“I hate her,” he repeated. “I hate her, I hate her, _I hate her_ , I HATE HER!”

Filled with a righteous rage, he stood up and began pacing Alex’s backyard while she simply watched in confusion. 

“She did it!” Bobby raged. “She made him leave! I hate her! I want my Dad! I don’t want to be responsible; I don’t want to look after her. I want my Dad! I hate her!”

His face crumpled and he seemed to curl in on himself as his knees buckled. Alex was at his side again, crouched right next to him on the ground. “What did your mom do?” she asked.

“She says I’m the responsible one,” Bobby whispered, sniffling. “Now she’s chased him away. I want my Dad back, Alex. I want him to come back. Please?” He looked up at her with the last request. 

“I’m sorry,” was all Alex could think of to say. 

He flipped onto his back, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Hoping that maybe he could forget what he had seen; hoping to put off responsibility for one more day. Alex lay next to him, offering comfort in her presence. She thought of what the man at the park had said, about witchcraft. If she really could cast a spell on him, she would use it right now to somehow make things better for her friend. But she was only nine. She couldn’t even think of something that she could say to comfort him let alone fix what had gone wrong. 

His family had caused him so much pain. And he felt such a huge responsibility towards them. She wished he could stay with her instead of going back to his family.

“I wish you were my brother,” she whispered. 

He took a breath, forced a smile on his face, and replied, “Then we couldn’t get married.”

They both laughed shakily, their seemingly lifelong joke clearing some of the tension. “I wouldn’t give up that tree house for the world,” she whispered back. 

He felt as though he should say something in response, but he was so tired. They both fell asleep in the backyard, dreaming of Hawaii and a friend who never left their side.


	12. Detective B

“Freeze!” Alex shouted, aiming her pointed finger at Bobby. 

It had been a month now since Bobby’s father had left, and he had come to the conclusion that his life really wasn’t much different without his father than it was with him. This bitter thought had been shoved out of Bobby’s mind angrily. Of course his life was different without his father. He was still angry with his mother for pushing William Goren away. But still he took care of her. After all, he was the responsible one. It all fell on him with his father now gone. In any case, the amount of guilt he felt at admitting his most buried emotion – rage toward the mother who couldn’t care for him – was overwhelming. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but in the deepest, darkest, most secret place in his mind, he blamed her. 

Bobby held his hands up, breathing heavily from the chase. He still met Alex here in the park as often as he could. He hadn’t brought up that night again, and was grateful that she never mentioned it either. Things between them had returned to normal. 

“You should have known that I would catch you eventually,” Alex huffed, still short of breath herself. 

Bobby turned around to face her. “Detective Alex,” he said. “You should know that a criminal mastermind always has a trick up his sleeve.” He shook his arm, and pulled out an imaginary weapon. “BANG!” he yelled. 

She threw herself to the ground, rolling out of harm’s way. Re-aiming her own hand, she also fired her imaginary weapon. “Bang!” she yelled, shoving herself off of the ground. “I got you in the leg, Bobby!” she added. 

“Aghhhh,” Bobby moaned, clutching his leg in mock pain. 

Alex sprinted over and pulled his arms behind his back “You’re under arrest – for murder.”

“You haven’t seen the last of me,” Bobby warned.

“I sure hope not,” Alex agreed, releasing his arms and sprinting towards the slide. 

“Hey, wait for me!” Bobby called, racing after her. 

It was a regular occurrence for them to be playing their own version of the ‘cops and robbers’ game that many children played. Except they made it detectives and criminals – and for each round they first invented a whole scenario involving the crimes and history of the criminal and the detective’s history. Sometimes they were rookie cops hunting down a thief who robbed grocery stores with a water gun. Sometimes they were seasoned detectives searching for a criminal mastermind. Bobby detailed all the cases in one of his notebooks, adding to them as they acted out the hunt for the criminal. 

“Can’t catch me!” Alex teased, flinging herself down the slide. Bobby followed suit, his longer legs letting him catch her after a race around the play structure. 

“Detective Bobby has managed to catch a criminal on foot again!” Bobby announced. 

“Hey, wasn’t I just the detective?” Alex demanded. 

“Then why were you running?” Bobby countered. 

“Okay,” Alex agreed, laughing. “I guess I turned over to _the dark side_ ,” she added, dropping her voice to an attempted horror-filled stage whisper. 

“Pfft,” Bobby snorted. “I could never see you as a criminal, Alex. Not really. I could definitely see as a detective someday though.”

“No _thank_ you,” Alex replied, shaking her head in disdain. “I would much rather drive race cars. I can’t wait to get my licence so I can at least drive regular cars! I’m never being a passenger again once I can take control of the wheel.”

Bobby shook his head in amusement. 

Alex just grinned and turned towards the swing set, springing into the air and twirling in circles on the way. Bobby followed, flopping down on the swing next to hers. 

“I’ll bet I can swing higher than you!” Alex challenged, pushing off the ground. 

“Why is everything always a competition with you?” Bobby asked in mock irritation. 

“Because I’m competitive,” Alex replied. 

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that,” Bobby muttered sarcastically, pumping his legs to get his own swing in motion. 

Alex laughed. “My Mom says it’s because I have a brother and a sister – sibling rivalry.”

“I have a brother, and I don’t feel the need to compete in everything,” Bobby countered. 

Alex shrugged. “Maybe that’s because you’re losing!” she joked, comparing the height of their respective swings. 

It had been meant as a joke, but Bobby frowned, thoughtful. That was a fair point. Pitting himself against Frank was a competition he was always going to lose. 

Alex let out a whoop of exhilaration as the chains of her swing went slack at the height of the arc. “I’m swinging so high!” she called. “I’m beating you Bobby!”

“Oh yeah?” Bobby replied. “But can you do this?” He tipped over backwards, hooking his ankles around the chains of the swing, watching the ground blur as he swung upside-down. 

He sat back up to see Alex’s swing whip past him again, going forward and up so high that the swing was past the point of being parallel to the bar. Just as she went to lean back, the chains slackened again, tipping the seat and sending its occupant back too fast. Bobby watched in horror as her feet missed the chains. She back flipped right off of the swing and plunged towards the ground. 

The ground rushed towards her. Alex didn’t even have time to scream before the grass rose up to meet her. One hand tried to break the fall before she collided with the earth, landing flat on her front. 

As Bobby’s swing moved forward again he slid off of it and did a sort of awkward run to try and recover his balance, nearly tripping over his feet. He turned and ran back to where his friend had fallen, relieved to see her sitting up. 

“Are you okay?” Bobby demanded. 

She drew in air to answer him, only to have a horrible wheezing sound that she had not intended escape her. She would have laughed at the sight of Bobby’s eyes nearly protruding from their sockets at the dreadful sound, but all she could manage was a short burst of air before the next rasping inhalation. She continued to struggle for air, but her lungs seemed to be malfunctioning. She couldn’t breathe. 

Tears escaped her eyes as she started to panic, but she couldn’t really even cry because she couldn’t breathe. She clutched at her chest, thinking she might have been flattened like a pancake because that’s certainly what it felt like. Her lungs were on fire. 

“Alex?” Bobby asked fearfully. He turned to scan the park, but it was one of the rare occasions when they were the only ones there. “I’ll go get help!” Bobby assured her. 

He was about to get up and run for help when she grabbed his arm. _Don’t leave me!_ She wanted to shout, but the only sound was another wheeze. 

He gripped her hand for a panic-stricken minute, wondering what to do. Should he try to pick her up and carry her home? Should he call for help? Should he shrug off her hand and run to the nearest person anyway?

After the most terrifying moment Alex had ever experienced, which seemed to last much longer than it really did, her chest was finally able to rise enough to pull in enough air. The only unfortunate part about that was now she was really starting to cry. Part of the reason she now sobbed while tears streamed down her face was due to the fact that she was now able to respond to the panic she had felt from not being able to breathe. The other reason was that now she that the more worrisome issue of struggling for air was taken care of, she knew she was hurt – a lot.

Bobby noticed that Alex’s lip was starting to swell, along with parts of the left side of her face. Now that she had released his arm, she was also clutching her left wrist. 

“Your arm’s hurt,” Bobby stated worriedly. “Can you move it?” 

She held out the arm gingerly and bent her hand forward just a tiny bit before letting out a wail and bursting into renewed sobs. 

“Come on, you’ve got to get home,” Bobby said, feeling his panic start to rise again. “Can you walk?”

“No!” she shouted. “I mean yes-” here she stopped to take a shuddering breath, “- but no! Mom and Dad will be so mad at me!”

“I don’t think they’ll be mad – you’re hurt,” Bobby reasoned. 

“They always tell me to careful; I’m gonna be in so much trouble!” she exclaimed. “I’m not hurt,” she said decisively, taking deep breaths to stop crying. Never mind the ache spreading through her entire body from her fall; never mind the sharp pain in her wrist; never mind the fact that each word she spoke stung her swollen lower lip. If she refused to acknowledge it, it would have to just go away. 

“You are hurt,” Bobby argued. “I think your wrist is broken. Look.” He seized her right arm and pulled it next to her left. The latter had already swollen to a significantly larger size than the former. 

Just seeing the size difference made it undeniable, and reminded her of how much the throbbing in her wrist hurt. The barley contained tears started to fall again, despite the fact that she really hated to cry. 

Though he hid it well, Bobby was absolutely terrified to see Alex crying. He didn’t think he’d ever seen something as frightening as her slipping off of the swing, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen her cry. He was absolutely frantic and desperate to do something. 

“I’ll carry you!” he exclaimed. “I’ll carry you back to your house!”

“My _arm_ is broken, not my _legs_ ,” Alex said incredulously. She stood up clutching her injured wrist. “See?” she said. “I can walk fine.”

“Okay,” Bobby replied shakily. All the same, he wrapped his arm around her waist and walked close to her. She leaned into him, more to comfort herself than out of any pain from her tumble. 

“I think you should go,” she said when they reached the division between their houses. He watched from the sidewalk as she went into her house. He heard her calling for her mother as the door closed. 

He turned and went back to his own house. As it turned out, if he had been looking for his own mother he wouldn’t have needed to call her. 

“Get in, quick, hurry!” she instructed, pulling him in and slamming the door shut. “Did they follow you here, boy?” she demanded. 

“No, Ma,” Bobby assured her. “I’m alone.”

 

Bobby paced his room anxiously, glancing out his window towards Alex’s at each turn. Her words repeated themselves through his mind over and over: _“I think you should go…”_

Of course she wanted him to go. It was all his fault that she had gotten hurt in the first place. If he hadn’t dared her to try that stupid trick, she wouldn’t have fallen off of the swing. Now she probably hated him. 

Bobby threw himself on his bed, hot tears pressing at his eyes. He wished he could go back in time and fix what had happened. But it was too late. 

He had watched from his window yesterday as Alex left with her mother and later returned with a cast on her left arm. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Bobby muttered angrily. It should have been he who fell and got hurt. He had run a thousand scenarios through his mind where he could have made a different choice and avoided the whole situation. But of course, it was no good to dwell on what ifs, so he had instead ran another thousand scenarios through his mind where he went over to apologize. It never seemed to come out right, even in his own mind. Could she ever forgive him?

Bobby got up and started pacing again, but his room felt too small. He left it, walking past Frank’s closed door, his mother talking to herself and paying him no mind anyway, and right out the front door. Without realizing it, his feet carried him towards the old park out of habit. 

Bobby contemplated the swing set, the long chains leading up to the bar high above the ground. It was probably lucky that Alex wasn’t hurt worse. Bobby turned angrily from the offending structure, as though it had purposefully offended him. Then he paused, his own thought circling back. _It should have been me who was hurt_. He turned back towards the swings. 

Maybe he couldn’t make it so Alex wasn’t hurt… but he still could punish himself. It took a long time for Bobby to shimmy his way up one of the poles supporting the bar from which the swings hung. He finally managed to heave himself up, panting. The physical exertion had helped clear his mind for a time, but now his anger and sense of self-punishment had returned. 

He looked towards the ground and reflexively tightened his grip. He was up really high. One wrong move, leaning forward just an inch too far, and he’d be plummeting to the ground. He was so intent on his thoughts that he didn’t notice the figure approaching him until she spoke. 

“What are you doing?”

Bobby was so surprised he nearly fell off of the bar by accident. “Alex!” he exclaimed.

“How’d you get up there?” she asked. 

“Climbed,” Bobby replied. 

“Right,” Alex said. “I suppose I could’ve guessed that.” They were both quiet for a moment, the first awkward silence they could remember stretching between them. 

“Are you coming down?” Alex asked finally. She normally would have tried to climb up after him, but she wasn’t able to do that with only one good arm. She was a bit irritated that he wouldn’t have thought of that. 

Bobby looked towards the ground again, leaning forward slightly. 

“Careful!” Alex called, holding her arms up as though to catch him. “Don’t fall!”

“You did,” Bobby said sadly. 

“Yeah,” Alex replied, “and believe me, it hurt! I really don’t suggest trying it!”

“It was my fault,” Bobby lamented. “I’m so sorry, Alex! I never meant for you to get hurt!”

Alex stared up at him, frowning. “It wasn’t your fault,” she replied, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I fell all on my own. It’s not like you pushed me or something.” 

“But it was because I told you to try swinging upside down that you fell,” Bobby explained. 

“It was an accident,” Alex said firmly. “It could have been either of us who fell. Besides, you’ve warned me for a long time that I could break my wrist, and now it’s happened!” She grinned, holding up her casted left arm. 

Bobby couldn’t believe she was smiling. “But aren’t you mad at me?”

“No,” Alex said. “It wasn’t your fault, so I’m not mad. Now come down from there, I want you to sign my cast.”

“But you wanted me to go away,” Bobby remembered. 

“Yes,” Alex said impatiently, “but that was only because then my mom would have found out that I was hanging out with you, and that’d be weird because she doesn’t even know we’re friends, because we’ve always been secret friends.”

“You’re really not mad?” Bobby asked

“Don’t be dumb,” Alex snapped in response. “Now please come down from there – carefully!” 

Bobby shimmied back towards the pole, and slid down it. “Is it just your wrist that’s broken?” he asked. 

“Yup,” Alex replied. “And I bit my lip, so it hurts when I eat, but that’s it.” She contemplated him for a moment, before matter-of-factly stating “You can be really dumb sometimes, especially for a smart guy.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Alex snapped. “You always think everything is your fault. Accidents happen, random unlucky chance happens, and you can’t punish yourself every time something goes wrong.” Finished with any particularly deep thoughts, she huffed irritably and added, “Don’t think I’m mad at you for dumb things.”

“Sorry,” Bobby said automatically, then caught himself. “I mean, I won’t.”

“It’s dumb,” Alex added. 

“Right.”

“But you’re not dumb.”

“Thanks.”

“Sign my cast.”

“Okay.”

Alex handed him a marker, and he thought for a moment before signing, _Detective B._

Alex read what he had written and looked up to meet his eye, grinning. He smiled back.


	13. Tug of War

_(Bobby is twelve, Alex is ten)_

Alex startled as she heard the back door slam. 

“Where have you been?” an angry voice shouted. 

That was her dad. Lizzie had been coming home past curfew lately. She was going to be grounded if she wasn’t careful. 

“Out!” Lizzie snapped back. 

“Out?” her father demanded. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“Whatever Dad,” Lizzie huffed. Alex heard her make a break for the stairs, but their father wasn’t done yet. 

“Were you out with that boy again?”

“So what if I was?”

“Elizabeth, you are only fifteen years old-”

“And I can take care of myself!” Lizzie interrupted. 

“You cannot be out past your curfew, and especially not with some teenage boy who’s just after-”

“You don’t know what he’s after!” Lizzie sobbed. “Leave me alone!” 

There was the sound of her sister’s footsteps pounding up the stairs, followed by her father calling after her: “You’re grounded!”

“Called it,” Alex muttered to herself. 

Two years later and Alex’s sister had once again become enamoured with Bobby’s brother. What she saw in him, Alex didn’t know. She privately agreed with their father – that Lizzie was just choosing a bad boy in order to rebel against their parents. She would never say that to her sister though. 

Alex opened her bedroom door, just in case Lizzie wanted to talk. She didn’t usually anymore. Now she thought she was too old for her little sister, but Alex thought she’d wait just in case. 

It was while she was opening her door that she noticed Timmy had been woken by the shouting, and was standing in his own doorway. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked sleepily. 

“Nothing Timmy, go back to bed,” Alex assured him. Lizzie emerged into the hallway, and noticed her little siblings in their doorways. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you guys,” she apologized. 

“It’s okay, Lizzie,” Alex said. 

“Liz,” she corrected. 

“Right,” Alex amended. “Liz.” Why her sister insisted on using a more ‘grown-up’ name, Alex didn’t know. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with the name Lizzie. 

All three siblings turned as their father reached the top of the stairs. “All of you – back to bed,” he instructed. 

Liz turned on her heel and flounced into her bedroom, shutting the door. 

“One more hug, Daddy!” six-year-old Timmy exclaimed, rushing forward. Their father swept him up in a one-armed embrace and held his other arm out to his younger daughter. 

“You too, baby girl?” he asked. 

“I’m not a baby, Dad,” Alex told him. She also turned and swept back into her room, shutting the door behind her. 

John Eames squeezed his son just a bit tighter than usual. His daughters were growing up. He wished that didn’t entail yelling matches after curfew. He didn’t like arguing with his eldest child, but he just wanted to protect her. He wished he could just hug all three of them tight and keep them safe forever. 

 

“Do you know what I was thinking about earlier today?” Alex asked. 

She and Bobby were lying in the grass under the shade of a large tree at the park. It was remarkably hot that day – too hot to run about. Too hot to even go on the swings. The two children lay facing opposite directions so that if they should turn their heads to the side; they would see the upside-down face of the other. 

“What were you thinking?” Bobby replied. 

“My Dad set up the tent in the backyard for Timmy and me to play in,” Alex informed him. “So I thought of when we were younger, and you said you’d never been camping.”

“That was a long time ago,” Bobby commented. “I was younger than you are now. You were about Timmy’s age back then.”

“I know, but I still remember,” Alex replied. “Do you?”

“I remember.”

How could he forget? That was when he had first accepted that his brother was no longer an ally in the strange and sometimes frightening world his parents had created. It was also when he had pushed aside his childish fantasies that everything was going to work out okay, and had tried to grow up and take responsibility. 

“Have you ever gone camping since then?” Alex asked, interrupting his reverie. 

“No,” Bobby replied. 

“You should,” Alex said eagerly. 

“I can’t,” Bobby commented irritably. “My family doesn’t camp.”

“No, no, not with them,” Alex corrected. She sat up and faced him. “You could camp in the backyard with me! Tonight!”

“Tonight?” Bobby echoed. “Don’t you think your parents might not like that idea?”

“They don’t have to know,” Alex said quickly. “Just come over late tonight, and we can camp out in the backyard and then go back home before anyone finds out! We can stay up all night and tell ghost stories, and go in sleeping bags, and talk, and make shadow animals with the flashlight, but we can’t have s’mores because we can’t have a fire…”

She trailed off and frowned when she saw that Bobby was still lying on the ground and not even looking the least bit enthused. “Hey grumpy-pants,” she teased, poking his sides to make him move. 

“I don’t know, Alex,” Bobby sighed. “If we got caught we’d probably get in trouble.”

Refusing to have her childish enthusiasm crushed, Alex redoubled her efforts. “Come on,” she wheedled. “It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t think so.”

She flopped forward so that she was now lying across his middle. “Come on!”

“Oof!” Bobby tried to roll away, but she was insistent. 

“Please?”

“Get off me,” Bobby told her. “It’s hot!” 

“It won’t be hot at nighttime!’ Alex sang out. “In a sleeping bag! In the tent!”

Against his better judgement, Bobby found himself agreeing. “Fine,” he agreed. “Let’s camp tonight.”

Alex sat up and grinned, her face aglow in excitement. Bobby always thought she was especially beautiful when she smiled. Especially now, enthusiastic about some new adventure. She was always like that – rushing at life with reckless abandon. She was still young (Ten, Bobby reckoned, was considerably younger than twelve), her actions still sometimes childlike. Such as her method for wheedling him into a night of camping in her backyard. But Bobby didn’t care. He loved that smile, the way she rushed into things, the way that she could have the enthusiasm of a child but the sensitivity and strength of someone much older. 

Bobby returned Alex’s smile. There was just something about her. She had… a sort of sparkle, he decided. It was in her smile, it was in her zest for life, it was in the way she gave so much of herself to everything and everyone without holding back. He sincerely hoped that nothing ever happened to take that sparkle from her. 

“You’re thinking again,” Alex accused. She knew that faraway look he got in his eyes – like he wasn’t really present in his body. It sometimes freaked her out a bit. 

“Everybody thinks,” Bobby commented, brushing her concern aside. 

Alex lay back down on the ground, this time facing the same way he was. A bit of her hair fell onto Bobby’s cheek; he tried unsuccessfully to blow it off, before brushing it aside. 

“You think too much,” she informed him. 

Bobby turned his head to the side. Alex was already looking at him, her now right-side-up face taking up most of his visual field. They were so close that Bobby didn’t think he could fit his hand between their respective noses. So close he could sit up just a bit, and then he could probably get close enough for them to touch. Noses, foreheads, lips… Bobby shook his head rapidly to clear it. Where had that thought come from? 

“Maybe you’re right,” he said softly, so as not to be so loud when she was so close. “Maybe I do think too much.”

She was serious now too, no trace of the impish grin that characterized her features so often. Was she serious now because he was? Or was she just hitting that delicate balance between childish fun and taking life seriously? He would hate to think that he was the one making her more serious than she would otherwise be. Perhaps he should try to find the enthusiasm she had. 

“So,” he said lightly, bringing the conversation back around, “What should I bring for tonight’s camping expedition?”

“It’s hardly an expedition – we’re just going to my backyard,” Alex replied, though she smiled again. 

They were soon amicably discussing the prospect of that night in the tent, all serious thoughts forgotten. They were both playing tug-of-war between childhood and adolescence… and on this particular occasion, childhood won out. 

 

Bobby wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep. He had been awake for at least another half an hour after Alex had dozed off. He had wondered if he should wake her, but in the end he had decided that he would stay awake the rest of the night without her. He couldn’t fall asleep because he had to leave before Alex’s family woke up…

That was what he had been thinking before he apparently had fallen asleep after all. Despite the heat of the day, the night had gotten cold. Alex had ended up crawling into his sleeping bag and putting hers over the top for extra warmth. He supposed it was this cozy warmth that had lulled him to sleep. It had in fact gotten a bit too warm for his liking, but he hadn’t wanted to wake Alex to get her to move. 

They had been lying with their backs pressed against each other late into the night, so as to not breathe in each other’s faces, but at some point they had rolled over in the night to face each other. They were now stuck in a jumbled tangle of arms and legs, and Bobby was concerned that he would have great difficulty extricating himself. This was quite a problem, as he could hear someone approaching the tent. 

 

John Eames marched towards the tent with all his muscles tense with barley contained fury. The tent was definitely occupied. He had forbidden his eldest daughter to have boys sleep over in the house – if this was her idea of a compromise, John was ready to set her straight. 

“Elizabeth!” he bellowed, reaching to unzip the tent flap. “If you’re in there with the neighbor, I swear to-”

He broke off as he pulled the flap open. Rarely, if ever, had he been this furious to discover he was right. That was his daughter in the tent with the neighbor boy. He was so angry that it took him a moment to realize that while it was his daughter and the neighbor boy, it was the wrong daughter and the wrong boy. 

“ELIZABETH, I… Alex?” He broke off as the two managed to finally break free of the sleeping bag. Two sets of terrified brown eyes met his, fear holding their tongues. It was fury that held John’s tongue for a moment as he reached into the tent. He had been expecting his worst fear for his fifteen-year-old, and so his brain hadn’t quite shifted gears yet as he grabbed Bobby the collar of his shirt and heaved him from the tent. 

“YOU!” He finally managed. “She’s still a _child_!” he raged. 

“Daddy,” Alex said weakly, cowed by her father’s rage. 

“Alexandra, now would be the time, to HOLD YOUR TONGUE!” He turned back to the boy he had ripped from the tent and flung him away. Bobby staggered but held his balance. “As for _you _– get OUT of my sight!”__

__Showing more courage than he felt, Bobby first glanced back towards Alex, who had emerged from the tent. He wouldn’t leave her with her enraged father if she was frightened._ _

__“Just go, Bobby,” Alex said._ _

__“Clear off, before I change my mind!” John added. Alex nodded in reassurance, and, apparently thinking the boy was taking too long, John advanced threateningly towards him saying, “GET AWAY, and don’t ever let me see you here again!”_ _

__One last fleeting glance at his friend, and Bobby scampered away, back to the relative safety of his own yard. John turned back towards his daughter, eyebrows raised. “Well?” he asked dangerously._ _

__“That was really mean,” Alex stated, trying not to show how nervous she was. With Bobby now gone, her father had dropped his aggressive posture, making him slightly less frightening. “Poor Bobby,” she said. “I think you really scared him.”_ _

__“ _What_ ,” John asked severely, “where you thinking, Alexandra?”_ _

__“We were camping,” Alex replied meekly._ _

__“Camping?” her father repeated, exhaling slowly. “The two of you weren’t… being inappropriate?” he asked uncomfortably._ _

__Alex stared at him blankly for a moment before cluing in. “Dad!” she yelled. “Gross!” She had had ‘the talk’ with her mother, but she hadn’t even thought of it since. And it was about twenty times more awkward with her father – and about her friend!_ _

__“Well,” John said, relieved by her reaction, but thinking he should press on anyway, “It’s not appropriate for the two of you to be sleeping together, in the same sleeping bag. What was I supposed to think?”_ _

__“Dad, please,” Alex begged. “Stop talking.” By now both their cheeks flamed in embarrassment._ _

__Now that his brain had finally wrapped around the circumstances, John realized that this was the conversation he might have needed to have with his older daughter. But Alex was still his little girl; still too young for him to worry about that sort of thing, for now anyway. He probably wouldn’t have jumped to the wrong conclusion in the first place had he not been expecting Lizzie in the tent._ _

__“No more unauthorized camping trips, okay?” he asked, wanting the conversation over as much as his daughter did._ _

__Alex mimed crossing her heart, and nodded. “Can I please go now?” she begged._ _

__He nodded, and Alex took off into the house. She nearly ran into her sister at the top of the stairs. “You,” Alex accused, “Just caused a really awkward conversation with Dad.”_ _

__Liz blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”_ _

__“Let’s just say that I recommend _not_ spending the night in the tent.”_ _


	14. A Thousand Tiny Pieces

_(Bobby is thirteen; Alex is eleven)_

Alex loitered out of sight, waiting for Frank to disappear before entering Bobby’s yard. She didn’t bother to try and supress the scowl on her face as he walked away. Shortly after the night Alex spent ‘camping’ with Bobby, her sister had come home crying. All Alex had ever gotten out of her was that she never wanted to see Frank again. She had refused to say what had happened; making Alex swear to never even say his name again. 

Alex was glad that shortly after that, Liz had slipped back out of her ‘bad girl’ phase and stopped fighting with their parents so much, but she wished it hadn’t come at the price of whatever Frank had done to upset her so much. She hadn’t seen her sister cry like that since she was little. 

Now that the older boy was gone, Alex entered the yard and waited for Bobby. He had wanted to tell her something important. Alex settled down on the ground to wait, trying to disregard the sense of foreboding she felt. 

Meanwhile, Bobby had looked out his window and watched Alex leaving her own yard, waiting for Frank to leave, and entering his own yard. He knew that he should go down to see her, but he hadn’t sorted out how to tell her yet. 

When no easy way was forthcoming, and he could see his friend becoming impatient, he finally persuaded himself to leave his room. He was filled with dread, feeling cold even in the heat of summer. “Alex.”

She had already seen him, and got up to meet him. “Bobby.”

They both stood facing each other, neither speaking. Finally, Alex prompted, “Well? Didn’t you want to tell me something?”

There was no easy way. Bobby searched his mind for some way to ease what he had to say, but since none was coming to mind, he went with quick and blunt. “I’m moving.”

She stared at him blankly, uncomprehending. “What?”

“Since my dad left, we haven’t been able to pay the mortgage,” Bobby explained, his voice flat, monotonous. “The bank is foreclosing. We’ve lost the house.”

“Where are you going to go?” Alex asked nervously. She traced her hand over his arm, attempting comfort. 

“An apartment,” Bobby replied. He took a deep breath, preparing for the news that had sent him into a screaming rage that ended with him locking his bedroom door and yelling furiously into his pillow when he found out. “An apartment in Canarsie.”

“Canarsie!” Alex exclaimed. “But that’s so far from Inwood.” Her eyes were wide with disbelief. Silently, she begged him to say that it wasn’t true. He didn’t. “But,” Alex said, hating her voice wavered, “but you’ll have to change schools and everything!”

Bobby nodded, not meeting her gaze. He didn’t want to know what he’d see if he looked. 

“But that’s way too far to walk! And I’m not allowed to take the subway by myself!” she wailed. “Why are you going so far?”

“My Mom knows someone who has a friend of a friend who got us into the apartment there on short notice,” Bobby replied. “Or something like that anyway.”

“But you can’t go,” Alex said around the lump in her throat. 

“I don’t have a choice,” Bobby replied wearily.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” she screeched shrilly. “And you’re just telling me now?”

“I…” Bobby struggled to explain. “I didn’t know where we were going until recently, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Hurt and angry, she shouted, “You’re a jerk, Bobby!” She turned and ran away from him, then paused to turn back. “I wish we never even met! You were a big jerk face then and you’re a big jerk face now!” 

She raced out of the yard back into her own house, letting the screen door bang closed behind her. Bobby remained rooted to the spot, frozen. Was this it then? This was the end of seven years of friendship, just like that? Alex had been his best friend for more than half of his life. 

Perhaps it was better this way. He was moving anyway. Was it less painful to break off their friendship in one last misunderstanding then to have it slowly disintegrate from the physical distance between them? 

Bobby turned slowly on the spot, still feeling numb. He walked back to his house, and found that he was unable to bring himself to cry. He reflected calmly that of all the things his mother’s illness had taken from him, the loss of Alex’s friendship was by far the worst. 

 

Bobby looked around his bedroom one more time to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything important. Then he left, closing the door to his old bedroom for the last time, closing the door on what had been the last remnants of his childhood. 

Bobby opened the front door, and saw that Frank and his mother must not be ready yet. Not wanting to go back into the house, he sat down on the front step to wait. 

His attention was caught by the figure running towards him. He stood up just in time to have Alex launch herself at him, her arms squeezing him tightly. “I’m sorry I was being so mean yesterday,” she said thickly. 

Bobby wrapped his arms around her waist, delighting in the realization that she was here in his arms. “It’s okay,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

They stepped back, and he could see that her eyes were red and puffy from crying. “I just didn’t want you to go,” she sniffled. 

“I don’t want to go either,” he replied, his voice wavering. Of course, the tears would come now. He cleared his throat and tried to hold them in check. 

“Come here,” Alex took his hand and led him into his own back yard, to where the old doghouse still sat by the fence. No one had ever gotten around to moving it. “Remember?” she asked. “You used to use that to get into my yard, when we were too little to see over the fence.”

“I remember,” Bobby replied. 

“And over here is the hole we dug so that I could crawl underneath,” she added.

“I don’t think either of us would fit anymore,” Bobby remarked. 

They remained in silence, gazing at the fence, awash in memories. All too soon, they heard Bobby’s mother calling for him. 

“I guess I’d better go,” he said, though he didn’t show any signs of moving. 

Alex grabbed both of his hands, facing him. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you more.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to come back to visit?” Alex asked. 

“I don’t think I can be away from my family that long,” Bobby replied. “I’ll write you a letter, as soon as we get there. And then I’ll mail it as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” she replied. 

They still hadn’t moved. Bobby’s mother called again, more insistent this time. “I’m coming, Ma!” he called back. He returned his gaze to his best friend. “I guess this is goodbye, then,” he said softly. 

“You know,” Alex commented, “I don’t really even remember a time before I knew you.” They held each other’s gaze a moment longer, before Alex quickly said, “Bye.”   
And then she was gone, feet kicking up behind her as she ran back to her own yard. Bobby went to the front to join his mother, brother, and an old friend of his mother’s who had agreed to drive them to their new apartment. He climbed into the backseat, he and Frank wedged tight against the doors by boxes between them. 

Bobby turned to look out the back window. Alex was standing on the sidewalk watching. Neither one of them lifted a hand to wave. They simply drank in the sight of the other, not knowing if they would ever see each other again. They maintained eye contact for as long as they could, until the car pulled too far away, and others came in between. 

 

Alex managed to hold it together until the vehicle was out of sight. Then she turned and ran blindly back into her house. She could barely breathe for crying. Shutting her bedroom door behind her, Alex flung herself onto her bed and sobbed into her pillow. 

Someone was knocking on her door. 

“Go away!” she screeched. 

“Alex?” It was Liz. “Alex, I’m coming in, okay?”

Alex didn’t reply. Her face was pressed into her pillow. She didn’t bother to look as she heard her sister come in and shut the door. She didn’t lift her head until she felt Liz sit down on the bed. 

“Come here,” her sister whispered softly. Alex sat up and Liz pulled her into her arms. “Oh, sweetie,” Liz whispered. “What happened?”

Alex bit her lip, a lifetime of secrets caught in her throat. But more than anything, she needed someone to talk to. “Bobby’s gone,” she sobbed. She dissolved into renewed sobs while her sister wracked her brain trying to figure out who Alex was talking about. 

“Who’s gone, Alex?” she asked finally, when she couldn’t think of anyone. 

“Bobby,” Alex repeated. “He lives next door – lived next door. He moved to Canarsie.”

Liz stiffened almost imperceptibly at the mention of the neighbors. So she would never have to see Frank again. Storing the relief of this fact into her mind to consider later, she refocused on her sister. 

“It’ll be okay, Alex,” Liz said. “I know you’re sad now, but you didn’t really even know him.”

If she had ever doubted the idea of keeping their friendship secret, it was now. It would be as though Bobby never existed to anyone but her. But how could she possibly explain the situation to her sister? 

“I’m going to miss him,” Alex sobbed. It was really the only thing she could say. 

“I know honey,” Liz said, rocking her little sister.

She really didn’t. She really didn’t know at all. But Alex appreciated the comfort all the same. 

 

Bobby faced forward, biting his tongue. He remembered how bad it had hurt to watch his father drive away for the last time. How terrible it was to be left behind. But it was even worse to be the one leaving. 

Back then, he had clung to Alex to keep from shattering. But now he was leaving, and she was the one left behind. He had no one else. Once again, he felt as though he was in danger of coming undone, breaking into a thousand tiny pieces. All he could do was cross his arms over himself and hope for the best.


	15. Valedictions

Bobby sat down at the table, tapping his pen rhythmically. He could talk to Alex for hours, and yet now that he was trying to write her a letter he was lost for words. Talking about unimportant things wasn’t as awkward as trying to write them down. But he had promised to write. Should he tell her how much he missed her? Surely she knew already. And besides, he could say that in every letter. It would get repetitive. Finally, he decided to just stick to the facts. 

_Dear Alex,_

_It was an uneventful drive. We didn’t even get stuck in traffic. Which was good, because there was barely any room in the back with Frank and all of those boxes. The apartment is very small. And it’s a lot noisier here. I can hear a baby crying next door, and people arguing and stomping about above us. The TV is on really loud on the other side.  
This apartment has only two bedrooms. Naturally, Ma has one of them. Frank and I are supposed to share the other. He doesn’t want to share with me, and to be honest I really don’t want to share with him either. It smells like smoke in there already. I can hardly breathe. So I let him think he kicked me out, but really, I’d just like to be able to breathe. I’ve moved into the living room instead. The couch is comfortable enough and then I don’t have to hear Frank snore either. _

_Has anyone moved into my old house yet? Maybe your new neighbors will have kids that are around your age. Hope you’re well,_

_Bobby_

He read the letter over a few times. Informative, casual, asking after her… it seemed fine. It left out how desperately he missed her though. He hadn’t wanted to be too sentimental, but he didn’t want her to think he didn’t care either. He picked up his pen again and added:

 _PS: Even though I know it was useless, I slept with my flashlight in my hand last night. As though I could still use our flashlight signs to talk to you. Silly, right? It must just be because I miss you so much._

Before he could change his mind, Bobby tucked the letter into an envelope and sealed it. He would figure out where he could get stamps tomorrow. 

 

“That’s for me,” Alex said quickly, snatching the letter off the top of the small stack of mail. 

“Who’s writing to you?” he mother asked curiously. 

“Pen pal,” Alex replied evasively, turning to race back up the stairs. She was eager to read the letter. “Hey!” Timmy had grabbed the letter from her, reading the address on the front. “Give that back!”

She snatched the letter back from her seven year old brother irritably. “A pen pal?” Timmy asked disbelievingly. “I thought pen pals were supposed to be far away? Yours lives in New York!”

Alex stuck her tongue out at him, hoping he’d drop it. 

“When did you get a pen pal, Alex?” her mother asked. 

“Um,” Alex hedged. “Recently. Like this is the first letter.”

“Is it something that you’re doing for school?”

“Yes,” Alex replied quickly, latching onto that excuse. “You know, practice our letter-writing skills and get to know other kids and stuff.” How easily the lies rolled from her lips! Why it mattered now, she wasn’t sure. Mostly just because she didn’t want to try and explain. She turned and raced up to her room before anyone could ask her any other questions. 

Alex lay on her bed reading his letter over and over. She closed her eyes to picture him sleeping on the couch in the apartment, imagine his hand gripping a pen to write her this letter, imagining him gripping his flashlight at night. 

_Dear Bobby,_

_I’m glad you didn’t get stuck in traffic. It sounds like your new apartment is going to be very noisy. I also don’t think you should have to sleep on the couch in your own house! Make Frank move into the living room – he’s the one stinking up the place. But then, I suppose your whole house would smell, so maybe it’s better to contain it in one room._

_To answer your question, a new family moved in yesterday. I don’t care how old their kids are, because no one can ever replace you. Don’t think it for a second! But I’m pretty sure the oldest is still a toddler, so I couldn’t play with them anyway. In any case, I’m too old to play now._

_There’s going to be a dance at my school soon. My friend Melanie said she’d help me with makeup, but I don’t know that I want to wear that stuff. It just seems like a hassle. It takes Liz forever to get ready in the morning because she has to cake her face in makeup every day._

_I really wish you were still here. Do you have your phone set up yet? Maybe we could call each other. I’d sure like to hear your voice again. Miss you,_

_Alex_

_PS: I still have my flashlight sitting by my bed too, just in case. I guess we’re both a bit silly._

 

Bobby read over Alex’s letter for the fifth time, frowning. The phone… that was certainly a problem. They had set up the phone, but the resultant ringing had sent his mother into the closet, barricading herself in. Nothing Bobby said to her convinced her that he was really her son. She had refused to open the door, screaming about the signal being sent from the phone. Bobby had boxed it up again. Maybe she would get used to it, but maybe not. He couldn’t force the door open without scaring his mother – he had to wait for her to come out. 

But it had taken too long for her to come out, so in the end Bobby had pulled on the handle until it had given way. His mother had cracked him over the head with a lamp, causing shattered porcelain to rain down around him. Both of them cut their bare feet on the shards as he moved to restrain her with his arms, hoping for the worst to pass. 

She had continued screaming for twenty minutes. “Where are my sons? What have you done with my boys?”

“It’s me, Ma,” Bobby tried to convince her. “I’m right here.”

“No! You’re trying to trick me! Shut up!” she attempted to pound a fist into her head, but Bobby held her arms down. 

“Stop it, Ma,” Bobby insisted. “You’re okay. You’re safe, I promise.”

“You’re lying!” she screeched. “You’re not my son! What have you done with my Bobby! What have you done with Frank?”

“Nothing, Ma, it’s really me!” Bobby insisted. 

“You were sent by them!”

Not them again. This was a sure sign that his mother was in one of her breaks – talk of them. “No, I wasn’t. It’s me, Ma. It’s Bobby.”

“You’re one of the ones who took my husband! You took William, then my sons, and now you’ve come for me!” 

“Dad left us, Ma,” Bobby said. “No one took him. Frank is out right now, no one took him either.”

His mother continued pulling against him. It was lucky that she was as small as she was, because Bobby wouldn’t have been able to restrain her otherwise. He was small, but wiry. He was strong from trying to hold his mother when she was having a delusion. 

Frank had shown up at some point, taking in the sight of his mother and brother with a resigned expression. “See, Ma?” Bobby said. “There’s Frank now. No one took him. It’s okay.” Frank made no move to come over and help, but his presence alone helped to calm their mother. 

Finally, Bobby was able to release her, his arms shaking from the strain. He was cleaning up the shards from the floor when there was a knock on the door. The police had been called because of the disturbance. Bobby was able to explain what had happened, but he was certainly not about to risk using the phone again. 

 

_Dear Alex,_

_My mother doesn’t like for us to use the phone, so that’s really not an option. I wish that I could hear your voice again too. We’re never going to see each other again, are we? It just can’t work out. I can’t leave here for a whole afternoon, and you can’t either. Remember you had asked what would happen if we weren’t friends anymore when we were grown up? If we didn’t even remember each other? What if it really ends up being that way? What if one day you realize that you don’t remember what I look like? What if at some point I try and remember what your laugh sounds like, and I can’t remember?_

_Maybe it won’t be in the next week, or even the next year. But at some point, your letters will just stop coming… and I’ll be nothing to you anymore. We can’t really even be best friends if we never see each other anymore, can we?_

_I miss you more than I could possibly express. But I just wonder if we’re kidding ourselves. In any case, we can at least still be pen pals, right? Because I so look forward to your letters._

_This letter has gotten very messy. Maybe I shouldn’t send it._

Bobby stopped writing and read it over. It had gotten quite confusing, just like his thoughts. In his experience, friends didn’t really last. The distance between them was probably just what Alex needed to abandon him just like everyone else had. His feelings had been hurt too many times for him to believe that it would be any different with her, no matter how much he wanted to believe it. He pushed the paper aside and started fresh. 

_Dear Alex,_

_I don’t think a phone call will work. I can’t use the phone here. Have fun at the school dance. I miss you,_

_Bobby_

It was very short, but he didn’t want to end up delving deeper into his thoughts again. It wasn’t until later, when he cleared off his desk, that he realized he had enclosed both letters into the envelope already on its way to Alex. 

 

Alex leaned over her desk, her nose an inch from the paper, writing furiously. The lengths Bobby went to ostracise himself was ridiculous. Obviously she wasn’t going to forget him! 

Alex sealed the letter, ready to send it the next day. He was being crazy, of course. She wasn’t going to forget him. Still she dug out the strip of photographs from the carnival, looking over his features just in case. The pictures were about three years old now, but they were the only ones she had of him. 

Alex picked up the letter again, reading it over in his voice, imagining that scared little boy look he got in his eyes when he started talking nonsense like in the long version of his letter. He must have been so worried he forgot to send only the one. 

She picked up the photographs again. Of course she would never forget him. She couldn’t. “I won’t,” she said out loud. Whether she was telling him or herself, she wasn’t sure. 

 

Bobby opened Alex’s letter nervously. He wondered what she would have to say to his letter. Unless, by some miracle, he’d managed to toss the first one and then forgotten. 

_Dearest Worrier,_

_You’re thinking again. Don’t I always tell you that you think too much? If I was there with you right now I might have to give you a firm smack to try and knock some sense into you._

_Why do you always do that Bobby? Why do you always think that I don’t care about you? Of course I do, and I would never forget you. We are pen pals, but you’re still my best friend too. That will never change. And I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday._

_I’m not going to stop writing to you, no matter how ridiculous you’re being. Although, you could certainly pack a bit more into your letters than that second one you sent. Really, I don’t get more than three lines?_

_For your information, the dance was actually kind of fun. I danced with my friends mostly, but I even danced with some boys in my class too. Maybe boys aren’t all pigs like I thought. Except for you, of course. What about you? What have you been up to? Have you met any friends at your new school? Or girlfriends? I get to be the first to know when you get a girlfriend, right? Best friends get to know first._

_Anyway, I hope I’ve managed to assure you that you are still very important to me, whether I see your face anytime soon or not. I hope you’re not separating yourself from others too much._

_Love,  
Alex_

Bobby finally released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when he reached the end of her letter. She wasn’t angry at his letter. Annoyed, yes, but not angry. 

He was slightly surprised at the clawing jealousy he had felt when he read that Alex had danced with other boys at her school. But what had he expected? He was here, and she was there. It wasn’t as though they were actually going to grow up and get married, like they had once planned. 

His eyes were drawn again to the bottom of the page. He scoffed at himself, muttering, “It’s just a valediction. It means nothing.” Besides, friends loved each other. It didn’t mean anything besides that. She was still eleven anyways; still a child. Too young to even have a boyfriend let alone fall in love with someone. 

“And that someone would never be a pen pal,” Bobby told himself. He sighed, irritated with himself. He just missed her, that was all. He was lonely, and he missed her. He was confusing that with something else. Thirteen year olds have crushes. They take pretty girls to the movies. They don’t fall in love. Especially not with someone who they only communicate with through letters. 

_Dear Alex,_

_You’re right; I’m sorry. I was being silly again. Sorry for the shortness of that letter, it’s just that my life isn’t very interesting right now.  
I have met this one guy, Lewis. I heard him from inside one of the school lockers – apparently some jokers had locked him in there. I got the custodian to cut the lock and let him out, and we got to talking. His Dad owns a body shop nearby, and he invited me to come hang out. I don’t know that we’re friends, nothing like you and I were, but at least I have more company than a book now. _

_As for girlfriends, no. I’m not popular; I really only ever talk to Lewis. Besides, I’m not the type to catch a girl’s attention. You’ll be the first to know if that changes. I get the same consideration from you, right? Best friends get to know first?_

_That’s about it really. How about you?_

Bobby hesitated before ending his letter, the pen posed above the paper. His mind raced, trying to decide. In the end he couldn’t resist ending his letter the same way she did. 

_Love,  
Bobby_


	16. Hospitality

_(Bobby is fourteen; Alex is twelve)_

“You promise you’re going to cover for me?” Alex asked for about the thirtieth time. 

“Yes,” Liz confirmed. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who you’re going to see.”

“No,” Alex replied. She was going to visit Bobby. Since her sister had finally gotten around to getting more than her learner’s permit, Alex had been begging her to take her to Canarsie without their parents finding out. Liz was supposed to tell their parents that she had dropped Alex off at Melanie’s house. She would take the subway to Melanie’s later that evening. 

She could tell Bobby was excited from his letters, but he was always asking her if she was sure, giving her a chance to back out. What he didn’t know was that she planned to go over early, to surprise him. 

“You’re not doing anything dangerous, right?” Liz asked nervously. 

“Oh relax,” Alex replied. “I’m just going to see a friend across town. But you know how Dad gets about us on the subway alone.”

“I still don’t see why you can’t just get Mom or Dad to drive you home.” Liz couldn’t take her back since she had other plans that night. But that was their deal – Liz was staying overnight at her boyfriend’s apartment. He was only a year older than her, but in college. Alex wouldn’t tell their parents if Liz didn’t tell on her.

“Well, it’s just that he’s not exactly living in a great part of town, and I don’t think Dad would like that…”

“So this friend is a he?” Liz asked, grinning. “Now I see why you didn’t want Dad to know.”

“Oh, simmer down,” Alex snapped. “He’s just a friend.”

“An older boy too, I’ll bet,” Liz guessed. “That would really freak Dad out.”

“Sure he’s older, by like two years, but that’s beside the point because-”

“You’re just friends,” Liz interrupted. “Right. Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not!” Alex snapped, despite the fact that she could feel a flush creeping up her neck and to her cheeks. “It’s just hot in here.”

“Sure,” Liz replied. 

“Look, I know Dad would jump to the same dumb conclusion you did, so that’s why I don’t want them to find out,” Alex explained. “We’re just friends.”

“Just promise you’ll call me at Pete’s place if you change your mind, or if anything happens,” Liz insisted. 

“Fine, I will; now let’s go,” Alex said, leading the way. 

 

Bobby tapped his foot nervously. He was at Lewis’s place, killing time before Alex got to his apartment. He knew he’d just pace and drive himself crazy waiting for her, so he’d went over to Lewis’s place as he usually did after school. 

It had been over a year since he’d last seen Alex. He wondered if she still looked the same as she had the last time he’d seen her. He himself had finally started a growth spurt. Maybe he really wouldn’t be tiny forever. 

Bobby wondered how he should greet her when he finally saw her again. _Hello Alex. It’s lovely to see you again_. No, that sounded cheesy and rehearsed. _Hey Alex, what’s up?_ No, that didn’t sound right either. _Alex! I can’t believe it’s really you!_ Well, who else would it be? Bobby sighed. It was completely hopeless. He was going to sound ridiculous no matter what he said. 

“Hello, earth to Bobby?”

“Sorry, Lewis,” Bobby said. “What were you saying?”

“What’s with you today?” Lewis asked. “You’ve been distracted all day.”

“Nothing,” Bobby replied. “I’m just thinking.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you think too much?” Lewis asked. 

Yes, many times. Bobby just smiled; afraid any verbal answer might give him away. 

 

Alex took a deep breath, nervous for some reason. It’s just Bobby, she told herself. She confirmed one more time that she was at the right place, and then knocked. There was no answer. She tried again, louder this time. She should have just come when she was supposed to. Bobby probably wasn’t home yet. 

Just as she was wondering if she should wait in the lobby, the door opened. “Yeah?”

It was Frank. Alex barely recognized him. He was bigger now, but somehow diminished from the last time she’d seen him. “Hi,” Alex replied. “Um, is Bobby home?”

“No,” Frank replied. He hadn’t moved from the doorway, simply staring down at her. 

“Well, okay, I guess I’ll come back,” she stammered. 

“What’s your name?” Frank asked. 

“It’s Alex,” she replied. “We used to be neighbors.” 

“Right,” Frank agreed, though it wasn’t clear to Alex whether he remembered her or not. “Well, Alex,” Frank said, “you can come in and wait for Bobby to come home.” He stepped back, allowing her to see into the apartment, waiting for her to come in. 

“Oh,” Alex hedged. “Well, maybe I should just come back after…”

“Nonsense,” Frank replied, grinning. “Come on in. I can be hospitable until my brother gets back.”

Alex hesitated again. Frank’s eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled of alcohol and something else. He had a dishevelled look about him, and something about the way he was smiling made her nervous. But she had nowhere to go anyway; she didn’t even know this part of the city at all. 

Though her instincts told her not to trust Frank, Bobby should be home soon. “Thanks,” Alex answered, entering the room. Frank shut the door behind them. 

 

“Okay, Lewis, I’ve got to go,” Bobby told his friend. 

“Already?” Lewis asked, surprised. 

“Well, Ma wanted me home earlier today,” Bobby said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Lewis replied. “See you.”

Bobby checked his watch as he left. He should make it home with fifteen minutes to spare. Then he would finally see Alex again. 

 

“Come and sit,” Frank said, indicating the couch he was lounging on. Bobby’s bed, Alex knew. 

“That’s okay,” she replied. “I’ll stand.” She was hovering by the door, uncertain. She looked over and saw a framed photograph, the only one in the room, of two young boys. It must have been Frank and Bobby, years ago. Looking more closely, Alex saw the resemblance in the younger boy, though she hadn’t met Bobby until at least two years after the picture had been taken. 

“I insist,” Frank said. “Have a seat.”

Hesitantly, Alex walked over and perched on the edge of the couch. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked.

“Sure,” Alex replied. “Do you know when Bobby will be getting back?”

Frank shrugged. “How is it that you know my brother anyway?”

“Like I said,” Alex reminded him, “we used to be neighbors.”

“And you kept in contact with him?”

“Yes,” Alex confirmed. 

“But not with me?” Frank asked, making a face as though his feelings were hurt, although it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Umm,” Alex said uncomfortably. “Well, we didn’t really know each other that well.”

“Really?” Frank asked, his voice sounding genuinely confused. “I thought we knew each other _quite_ well.”

“Umm,” Alex said again. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe I could remind you?” Frank suggested. He had moved closer to her on the couch, their legs were now touching. 

Alex leapt off the couch. “Are you sure you don’t know when Bobby will be back?”

Frank also stood up. “Why do you need him?” Frank asked, walking towards her. “Am I not good enough company?”

“Fine,” Alex answered, walking backwards away from him. “It’s just that I came to see Bobby, is all.” Her back hit the wall, making the frame that the photograph was in rattle. Frank was now right in front of her; she had to look up to make eye contact. 

“You know,” she suggested, her voice high and strange to her own ears, “Maybe I’ll just go outside until Bobby gets back.” Frank didn’t reply, but he did brace his arms against the wall, making her feel trapped. “I don’t want to… intrude or anything…”

“You’re not intruding,” Frank countered, leaning down. She could smell cigarettes, alcohol, and something else she wasn’t familiar with in his breath. 

“I really don’t-”

But whatever she was going to say was interrupted. His mouth was on hers. She was so shocked she didn’t react at first, which he took for permission. His hands held her against the wall. Alex tried to squirm away, but he either thought she was playing, or he didn’t care. 

Fear was making her thoughts race, too fast for her to come up with a way to escape. His tongue pushed its way into her mouth, bringing a bad taste with it. A small, frightened sound nearly didn’t make it past her fear-constricted throat. He seemed to think this was a sign of pleasure, because he moved closer, pinning her small body against the wall with his own. 

It was when his hand slid under her shirt that panic sent her brain into overdrive, past even trying to think logically. She bit his tongue as hard as she could. He backed off, cursing. Alex ran past him, pulled open the door and fled the building as fast as her legs could carry her. 

Frank touched his tongue and pulled his fingers away to examine them. She had made his tongue bleed. He cursed again. “Ugh, when did you get into playing rough?” he asked the empty room. When there was no response he scanned the room. The girl was gone. 

“Well, you weren’t worth the trouble anyway,” he muttered. He closed the door. He liked catching up with old flings, but she hadn’t been too forthcoming the first time around either, if he remembered correctly. It was sometimes hard to tell when his brain was fuzzy like it was now. 

Outside, Alex careened out of the building, not stopping until she put a couple of blocks between herself and the apartment. She slowed down, gasping for breath as a result of the run and the fear. Tears made their way down her cheeks, and at some point her heavy breathing from exertion turned into sobs. 

Alex turned sharply at the hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright, honey?” a man asked. Alex turned away and began to run again, terrified. She continued running until her legs felt weak and rubbery. She stumbled over to a payphone and drew a paper from her pocket with shaking hands. 

“Hello?” a man’s voice asked when the call went through. 

“Liz?” Alex asked shakily, even though this was clearly not her sister. Liz had given Alex her boyfriend’s number in case she got lost on the subway. “Just a sec,” the man said. 

“Hello?” It was her sister. 

“Lizzie,” Alex sobbed into the phone. 

“Alex?” Liz asked urgently, concerned. “What happened; what’s wrong?”

“Come get me, please,” Alex sobbed.

“What happened?” Liz asked again. 

“Please!” Alex insisted, wiping a hand down each of her wet cheeks. 

“Okay,” Liz said soothingly. “Okay, I’m coming. Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” Alex realized. How far had she come? Had she turned any corners? She didn’t think so. 

“You don’t know?” Liz asked, concern making her voice sharp. “Are you near where I dropped you off?”

Alex took a shuddering breath and answered, “I think so.”

“Can you get back there?”

“No!” Alex screeched. “I’m not going back; I can’t go back!”

“Alright!” Liz raised her voice to be heard over her sister’s hysterics. “Look around; tell me where you are.”

Alex glanced around, taking in the buildings. “I’m in front of a convenience store,” she told her sister. “Go back to where you dropped me off and then go straight.”

“Okay,” Liz replied. “I’m coming, Alex. Stay where you are, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, see you soon.”

“I love you too.” The phone line went dead, but Alex remained holding the phone for a moment. She was completely alone. The tears came again, and Alex pressed her palms into her eyes to try and stop them. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself. 

Since it would be awhile before her sister got there, Alex ducked into the store, thinking they might have a bathroom for her to hide in. “Excuse me?” she asked the Hispanic woman at the cash register thickly. “Do you have a washroom here?”

“Oh my dear girl,” the woman said. “What happened to make you cry so, little one?”

The kind words caused Alex to break into renewed tears. The woman came out from behind the table and opened a package of tissues from the shelf, handing one to the girl. Alex’s fear had faded enough that she was embarrassed by her display, but she couldn’t seem to stop crying. 

“My sister’s coming to get me,” Alex told the clerk through her tears. 

“Well, let’s watch for her from the window, yes?” the woman asked kindly. 

Alex nodded, and the woman placed her arm around the girl’s shoulders. Alex always wanted to seem as grown up as possible, but right now she was grateful for this kind woman taking care of her. The woman waited with her until she spotted her sister, moving quickly down the sidewalk, scanning the people walking by. 

Alex burst out the doors and straight to Liz’s arms. Her sister wrapped her arms around her and muttered, “Oh thank goodness. Are you okay?” Alex nodded against her sister’s chest, her knees weak with relief. 

“Are you alright now?” The clerk was standing in the doorway, still looking concerned. 

“Yes,” Alex replied. “Thank you.”

The woman smiled. “It is no problem.” She waved, and then went back into the store. 

Alex turned as a car pulled up. Liz’s boyfriend got out. “You found her then?” he asked upon seeing the two sisters. 

“Yes,” Liz replied, relieved. Alex shrank into her sister, as though trying to hide. Her face turned down, she didn’t see the almost imperceptible look of understanding cross her sister’s face. “Pete drove me here,” she explained to her sister. “We can drop you off at home, or if you want I can go home with you,” Liz offered. 

“No,” Alex said. “I can’t go home. I’m supposed to be at Melanie’s, and if I come home, Mom and Dad’ll know something’s wrong and I can’t tell them-” Alex broke off, realizing she was talking quickly. “I don’t want them to know; I don’t want anyone to know.”

“She can crash at my place tonight,” Pete told Liz. 

Alex gripped her sister tighter. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take the couch,” Pete said to Alex, “But you’re welcome to spend the night and go home with Liz tomorrow.”

“That’s so generous,” Liz said. “Thank you.” Whatever plans her boyfriend had for them tonight would certainly be changed if her little sister was there. She was lucky to have found a guy like Pete. 

“Thank you,” Alex echoed. She certainly preferred Pete’s hospitality to Frank’s.


	17. Aftermath

Bobby entered the apartment. Frank was sprawled on the couch, his tongue hanging out and his fingers probing it. 

“What on earth are you doing?” Bobby asked. 

Frank pulled his tongue back in his mouth and sat up. “Hey Bobby,” he said casually. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Bobby replied, slightly confused. His brother was not normally one for small talk. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” 

“I live here, don’t I?” Frank asked. 

“Sure,” Bobby replied, throwing his backpack on the floor next to the couch. “Is Ma in her room?”

“Yeah, she’s asleep.”

Bobby went to check just in case. It would just figure if his mother ended up wandering the streets when he was expecting Alex to come by. But his mother was indeed having an afternoon nap. 

Bobby returned to the living room, where Frank was still sprawled on the couch. “Get off,” Bobby snapped. He glanced at his watch. Ten more minutes until Alex said she’d be coming by. 

Frank ignored him. “I said move!” Bobby insisted. He didn’t want Frank around when Alex got there. “It isn’t enough that you took over the bedroom, now you want the couch too?” Bobby checked his watch again. 

“You late for something?” Frank asked. 

“No,” Bobby replied shortly. “I’m waiting for someone. Could you please, _please_ , give me some privacy?” 

“If you’re waiting for that girl, she already left,” Frank said. 

Bobby froze. Alex had already been here? Why had she left before he got back? “The girl,” Bobby demanded. “Her name was Alex?”

“Yup,” Frank confirmed, stretching out further on the couch. 

“Why did she leave?” Bobby asked. 

“Dunno,” Frank replied lazily. “She just tore out of here about ten minutes ago.”

Bobby sunk to the floor, both his throat and chest feeling tight. Why would Alex leave before he got home? Didn’t she want to see him?

“And she didn’t say anything?” Bobby asked his brother, hoping his voice didn’t betray his confusion and disappointment. 

“We didn’t talk much,” Frank answered truthfully. There was a pause, both of them thinking. “She said we used to be neighbors,” Frank said. “You kept in touch with her all this time?”

“Yeah,” Bobby replied. 

“Why?” Frank asked. “That’s weird.”

“Why is it weird?” Bobby asked defensively. 

“Well,” Frank answered, his eyes narrowed, “I was the one she was going out with a few years back. It seems odd that she’d stay in touch with you.”

“What?” Bobby demanded sharply. Alex and Frank? Surely he would have known if they had been seeing each other. Alex would certainly have said something! Besides, she was way too young… 

“Oh,” Bobby realized. “No, you used to date Lizzie. Alex is Lizzie’s little sister.”

“Right,” Frank said slowly. “I forgot there was a little sister.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. It figured that Frank wouldn’t even remember that Alex existed. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t remembered Lizzie’s name. 

“She’s like, sixteen, right?” Frank asked in an offhand manner. 

“No,” Bobby snapped irritably. “You’re still thinking of Lizzie. She’s seventeen now, a senior like you. Alex is twelve.”

Frank remained silent. “Why does it even matter?” Bobby asked. 

“No reason,” Frank said, getting up. “I just thought she was older is all. She looked older.”

“Whatever,” Bobby muttered. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with his brother right now. 

Frank went back into the bedroom. That had certainly been a close call. He’d had no idea the girl was jailbait. No wonder she had seemed nervous. He’d just thought it was the whole good girl doing something bad thing causing her to act like that. She was pretty skinny, but Lizzie had been scrawny for fifteen. He would never have guessed she lacked the more voluptuous body of his latest ‘relationships’ because she was barely pubescent. He might consider it a special talent of his to convince reluctant partners that they were more ready than they thought, but he would never have taken on such a strong approach if he’d realized how young she was. It probably hadn’t helped that he had already spent a few hours getting high when she’d shown up. 

_Next time I try to hook up with an ex-girlfriend, I’d better make sure she’s not actually the little sister_ , Frank thought to himself. The thought occurred to him as funny, and he laughed out loud. 

Bobby wondered what his brother was laughing about. Probably nothing. He was already at least half-baked by the look of him. He was actually surprised that his brother was even able to follow their conversation. Then again, it was getting harder to tell how high he was. Maybe Alex had been scared off at the sight of his brother. Bobby decided that he would wait for a letter from her explaining what had happened. He didn’t think he’d ever been more disappointed in his life.

 

Alex was sitting on Pete’s couch with her sister, trying not to think of what had happened the last time she was sitting one someone else’s couch. She was in the pajamas that she’d packed for going to Melanie’s house. Liz was wearing one of Pete’s baggy t-shirts. It seemed strange to Alex – she only thought of Liz as her sister, not someone’s girlfriend. 

Pete had said that he was going out to pick some stuff up at the store. Liz and Alex were both grateful that he was giving them time to talk without it seeming awkward. 

“What happened?” Liz asked. 

“It’s okay, Liz,” Alex said. “I’m fine now. I was nervous before, but it’s okay now. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“You were terrified,” Liz corrected. “And we do need to talk about it. Tell me what happened.”

Alex remained silent, fiddling with the cuff on her pajamas. She wasn’t really sure what had happened. Now that she was calmer, she wondered if she wasn’t blowing the whole thing out of proportion. He hadn’t really hurt her. It was just the fear of what he might have done…

“That boy you were going to see,” Liz prompted. “Did he hurt you?”

Alex shook her head. Bobby would never hurt her. Never. She wondered how on earth it was possible that her best friend could be even remotely related to Frank; the fact that they were brothers was astounding. 

“Alex,” Liz said gently. “This boy was older than you, right? Did he do something to upset you?”

“He wasn’t even home,” Alex replied. “It… it was his brother.”

Liz froze, remembering her little sister crying about the neighbor moving away. Moving to Canarsie, which was where she had dropped Alex off. Then her mind flashed back to more than two years ago, when she fled Frank’s company once and for all. 

“What did he do to you?” Liz demanded, her voice suddenly higher, sharper. 

“Nothing,” Alex said quickly, surprised by how quickly her sister’s expression had turned from concern to fury. “Not really.”

“He tried something, didn’t he?” Liz asked. 

“He… _tried_.”

Liz wrapped her arms around her sister – her baby sister. She didn’t know how to ask the next question, but she had to know. “Did he… get what he was after?”

“No,” Alex replied. “I bit him and ran.” 

“He never-”

“No,” Alex interrupted before her sister could finish. “You know, Liz, I don’t think he would have. I didn’t say anything, you know? I was just scared, but if I told him to stop, he probably would have. I’m probably just overreacting, right?”

“I don’t know,” Liz replied. She pulled her sister close again, letting the subject drop. Continuing would just bring up things she didn’t want to talk about. In any case, Alex was just trying to justify the situation to herself; making light of it so she wouldn’t be afraid. Because she had certainly been afraid. Afraid enough that she was never going back. Not even for Bobby. 

 

When Alex and Liz walked in, they knew immediately that they were in trouble. “Where have you been?” their mother demanded. “We’ve been worried sick!” She launched herself forward to hug each girl in turn. Their father waited, worry turning to anger. 

“Well?” he asked, his voice quiet. It was always a worse sign when he was quiet. 

Liz and Alex both just waited. “Melanie’s parents called last night, asking why Alex hadn’t shown up,” he informed them, his voice still dangerously low and calm. “So I called the number you left me,” he pointed to Liz, “and found out that you weren’t there either.”

“We thought you’d crashed the car!” their mother wailed. “We were calling hospitals, and the police to see if they’d found your car in a ditch somewhere!” 

“We’re sorry we worried you,” Liz said quickly, attempting to diffuse the situation. “It’s just that Alex and I, we decided that we wanted to hang out last night. You know, hit the mall for some shopping; sister stuff!”

“Instead of seeing your friends?” their father asked disbelievingly. “The two of you never go to the mall, or-”

“Well that’s why we wanted to!” Alex said quickly, catching on. “I begged her to take me and she finally gave in and we were together all afternoon.”

If their father ever found out what had happened to Alex that afternoon… They didn’t even want to think about it. 

“And then we went out to eat,” Liz continued, “but by then it was so late, I thought that Melanie’s family wouldn’t be expecting Alex anymore.”

“But we didn’t think they’d call you, so we didn’t think to warn you about the change of plans,” Alex said earnestly. 

“And I must have given you the wrong number for the friend I was staying with, and I just took Alex with me,” Liz said. 

“You took your little sister to some party?” their father demanded. 

“Well, no…”

“It was just a study group,” Alex jumped in, defending her sister. “And like we said, it was late, and I had my sleepover stuff with me so I just went to sleep anyway.”

Their parent just stared at the two of them. The girls waited, keeping their expressions earnest. 

“You made your mother sick with worry,” their father said finally. “You should have called when the plans changed.”

“Sorry,” they replied in unison. 

“You’re both grounded.”

They nodded, accepting the punishment. They had, after all, been trying to deceive their parents. It just hadn’t worked out the way they had planned. 

Alex returned to her room, knowing that she had to send Bobby an explanation. But what could she say? She couldn’t tell him about Frank. She knew how much he had already suffered. She didn’t want him to hear one more negative thing about his family. And besides, she didn’t ever want to talk about it. She would have to lie. 

Her own words came back to her. Friends don’t lie to each other, Bobby. Especially not best friends. But it was for the best. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t. 

 

“You do realize they were lying?”

“Yes, I know,” Penelope Eames answered. “But I’m just glad they’re okay.”

“What do you suppose they were really up to?”

“I have no idea,” Penny replied. “But if I had to guess, I would say that Liz probably went to her boyfriend’s place.”

“You think she took my baby girl with while she went for a romantic rendezvous!” John Eames hissed.

“Well that’s the thing,” Penny mused. “I don’t see Liz taking Alex; and I don’t see Alex even wanting to go with either.”

“If that boy dares to touch my little girl…”

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” Penny replied, amused. 

John pounded his fist into his hand. “I could certainly give him a talking to that he’ll never forget.”

“Johnny…”

“Well, what?” he demanded. 

Penny shook her head. “I’ll say a prayer for them tonight. That’s all we can really do Johnny. Be the best parents we can be and have faith that everything will turn out alright.”

“I want to know what they were doing!”

“They weren’t going to give it up,” Penny said gently. “All I know is that they’re safe now, and for that I’m grateful. Besides, you grounded them. What else can we do?”

“I think I’ll try resuming the interrogation tomorrow,” John said. “Maybe I’ll catch them off guard, when their defences are lowered…”

“They’re not suspects, Johnny,” Penny snapped. “They’re our daughters.”

“Exactly!” he snapped. “You have no idea the things I see on the job. Bodies bloodied, broken. Our girls out God knows where with God knows who.”

“I keep telling you, if you keep riding them they’ll just shut down,” Penny chastened. “They’ll never tell us anything.”

“I am trying to protect them!”

“You can’t shelter them from life, Johnny!”

“I can damn well try!”

“At some point you’re going to have to accept that they need to go out in the world, make their own mistakes. Trust them to come to us if they need to. What are you going to do; ground them both until they’re in college?”

“I can put them on virtual house arrest,” he snarled. 

“Oh good grief,” Penny muttered. 

“Where are you going?”

“To bed,” she replied shortly. “Listen, Johnny. The girls were out somewhere together. They’re both home safe. Liz may have made some mistakes but she’d never knowingly put her little sister at risk. Elizabeth and Alexandra are good girls. We’ll keep an eye on them, but I doubt they’re in any serious trouble.”

“We hope.”

“I know my daughters,” Penny said sharply. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Penny sighed. “Nothing. Goodnight, Johnny.”

 

Dude, you’ve been moping all day,” Lewis said. “Seriously, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Bobby insisted. Alex had never returned to the apartment that afternoon. He had still hoped that she would come back, but she never did. Now he was waiting, hoping that he would soon receive a letter from her. 

“Well, okay,” Lewis replied. “Whatever you say.”

It took a week for Bobby to get a letter from Alex. He tore it open quickly, heart hammering. What would she say about the night at his apartment? Had he managed to upset her without realizing it? Maybe she was angry that he wasn’t home when she got there?

_Dear Bobby,_

_Sorry I never made it to your place. Something came up and my sister wasn’t able to drive me. Apparently that gave her time to think about it and she changed her mind. She’s not going to cover for me anymore, so I guess I won’t be able to make it out again. I hope you’re not too disappointed._

_Nothing too exciting is happening around here. You mentioned in your last letter that you and Lewis were going to try and put a car together from scrap pieces in the shop. How’s that going?_

_Still missing you,  
Alex_

Bobby stared blankly at the letter, his mind racing. Alex hadn’t acknowledged the fact that she was there at all! She had made it sound like she was never at his place. But he knew that she was; Frank had told him. Was it possible that Frank lied? But no, he hadn’t even remembered Alex’s name. There was no way he could have made it up. And why would he? 

But that meant that Alex was lying to him. Why would she have lied about being at his place? It didn’t make any sense. He was hurt, and confused. Maybe she had just changed her mind about seeing him. Maybe she didn’t want to see him anymore. 

But she had written him. She wanted to be pen pals, but not best friends? _Friends don’t lie to each other, Bobby. Especially not best friends_. Was she trying to subtly tell him that they weren’t best friends anymore? But no, Alex would just come out and say something. Not lie and hint subtly. 

But then, what other explanation was there? Bobby knew only one thing. He couldn’t stop writing letters to her. He couldn’t stop getting letters from her. He decided to not acknowledge her lie, because the possibilities of its explanation were too frightening. 

Still, a loss of trust had come between the two friends after that day.


	18. Best Friends Get to Know First

_(Bobby is sixteen; Alex is fourteen)_

_Dear Bobby,_

_I remember when we said that the best friend gets to know first. And so, I’m starting this letter by jumping right in. Jordan Walker asked me out yesterday. He’s a junior. He has a car, Bobby. He’s going to take me out on a real date. I’ve had a crush on him for months, but I never thought he’d notice a freshmen like me! I’m so excited, you have no idea._

_Okay, I guess I don’t need to gush about Jordan for this entire letter. I know he’s older than me, but he was so sweet when he asked me out, and we’ve been talking for months. Honestly Bobby, what do you think?_

_Oops, I guess I was talking about him again. Anyway, in other news, Liz came home to visit last weekend. She brought Pete over for dinner too. Two years they’ve been together now. She thinks he might really be the one. Isn’t that exciting? Mom and Dad would absolutely die if they got married before Liz graduates though. She wants to bring up the subject of them living together next year, but I told her Dad would have a coronary and Mom would probably cry for a solid month. Imagine, her daughter living in sin like that! If she only knew what her kids were really up to… Anyway, Dad’s not so worried about their immortal souls, but he would sooner shoot the guy than think of him laying hands on his daughter._

_Which reminds me, I’m going to have to warn Jordan that my Dad might be a bit intimidating. He’s coming to pick me up at my house, you know. It’s so romantic! But I should probably stop talking about him now. It’s just that I’ve been dying to talk about it and I can’t even tell Melanie because I’m supposed to tell you first!_

_Speaking of you, have you managed to pick one of the many girls that must be throwing themselves at you? I’m sure you could take your pick, a catch like you! And I would know; I’ve known you for most of your life. I wish you lived closer. Then we could go on double dates, and I could actually meet your girlfriend. And of course, I’d love to see you again. But that’s a given. After all these years, I think you know that!_

_Can you believe how long it’s been since the day you left? More than three years! I can hardly believe it. It seems like just yesterday I was crawling under the fence into your yard. That hole isn’t even there anymore. The neighbors planted a garden on their side, and they must have filled in the hole at the same time. I think they got rid of that old doghouse too. The swings I fell off of when I broke my arm are still there at the park though, although they replaced the slide last year. Funny how things change, isn’t it?_

_Now this letter has gotten very sentimental. Sorry about that. I know most guys don’t like reading about a sappy girl’s feelings. But you always listen, Bobby. I truly do hope we get to see each other again someday._

_Lots of love,  
Alex_

 

Bobby held Alex’s letter in his hand, pacing the room. He skimmed back over the first bit, stopping at the first question she asked him. What did he really think? It was difficult to stop himself from quickly scrawling out the same response he had given her about Ricky Hanson’s proposal of marriage five years ago. You were supposed to marry me. But of course, that would be ridiculous. 

Instead, he settled down at his desk and picked up a pen to begin writing a more appropriate response. 

_Dear Alex,_

_I stand by what I said five years ago, except apply the rule to dating. Date someone who makes you happy. If you really like him, I couldn’t possibly find something wrong with him._

Bobby paused, scanning her letter again. He couldn’t help but sullenly respond to her statements in his own mind. _I’m_ a junior. _I’d_ take you out on a real date. I’ve noticed you – for your whole life! But he was being crazy again. He hadn’t laid eyes on her in three years! He frowned, quickly conjuring a mental image of her. But that wasn’t right. He hadn’t seen her since the day he left Inwood. His mental image of her was still that of an eleven year old girl in that awkward stage of all knees and elbows, with messy hair, and wearing baggy clothes and a smile that always forced him to smile in return. Not that he still thought of her as that girl – her letters had changed the way he thought about her, he was very aware that she was a teenager now. He just hadn’t seen her to back that up. 

Bobby turned back to her letter, reading it over again. He paused again at Alex’s statement about her mother. _If only she knew what her kids were really up to…_ He frowned, the hand holding the letter dropping against his leg. What was the implication of that? What was Alex up to? Probably not falling off of swings or playing cops and robbers. 

_No, Alex, there’s no one special. What do you expect? I mostly hang around the library, Lewis’s place, or home. I’m not going to meet any girls that way. Actually, that reminds me. I did start working part time for Lewis’s dad. He’s a really good guy. He and Lewis taught me more about cars, and then he offered me a job._

_You’re right; it is funny how things change. Canarsie has grown just as familiar to me as Inwood was, maybe even more. I haven’t even thought about that old doghouse or the hole under the fence for some time now. But I often think about that old park, and all the good times you and I had there. Don’t worry about being too sentimental, you know that I can be that way too. And I’ll always listen to you, Alex. You can always tell me anything._

_I hope you have a good time on your date. That Jordan had better treat you right! I swear I’ll walk all the way back to Inwood to teach him a lesson if he dares to treat you any worse than you deserve._

_I also hope that we can meet again someday. I miss you still._

_All of my love,  
Bobby_

_PS: If you and Jordan don’t work out, there’s still a treehouse waiting for you in Hawaii._

 

Bobby wandered into the library, looking for a space where he could settle in segregated from everyone else. All of the individual desks were taken, the increase in people in the library probably due to midterms approaching. There were some spaces at the larger tables in the middle of the room, but it made him uncomfortable to ask a group of people if he could sit with them. 

There was one table that had only one girl sitting at it. Bobby recognized her from his chemistry class, although she sat across the room from him. Bobby hitched his backpack up higher on his shoulder and walked over. He had certainly been in more frightening situations than this…

“Hi,” Bobby said, trying not to sound nervous. The girl looked up at him with cornflower blue eyes. “Maisie, right?” he asked. She nodded, making the curls from her long ponytail bob. “We have third period chem together.”

“Right,” she agreed. “Bobby?”

He nodded in response. “Do you mind?” He indicated the seat next to her at the table. She shook her head, moving her own books over. “Thanks,” he said, relieved. He settled down next to her, taking out his homework. They worked in silence for a time, before Bobby broke it again. “Did you understand the lesson today?” Bobby whispered, his chemistry notes open in front of him. She nodded without looking up from what she was doing. “Me too,” he said quickly. She looked up this time, offering him a small smile. 

By the time Maisie insisted that she had to leave, the library was nearly empty. Bobby had learned that she lived with her father and brother, that her mother had died three years before of cancer, that she did well in science and math but had an ambition to become a singer, and her father didn’t want her to. She had mentioned that her favourite colour was purple, that she loved listening to her father’s old jazz records which was how she taught herself to sing, and that she enjoyed reading about eccentric topics just as much as he did. 

Bobby watched her leave, waiting. Sure enough, she turned back to look at him before walking out the door. They both blushed, and then offered a small wave before she scurried away. Bobby packed up the rest of his things, thinking that maybe he had replied to Alex’s letter too soon. Maisie was someone special. 

 

“So Bobby,” Lewis asked. “Have you asked Maisie to the spring fling?”

“Umm... what?” Bobby asked. 

“Oh come on,” Lewis teased. “You are going to ask her? You’ve only been spending every lunch hour and afternoon with her for a month.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Bobby hedged. 

“Oh come on!” Lewis insisted. “I know she’d say yes. And I’m sure Vanessa would appreciate more company then two dudes.”

“Uh, Vanessa?” Bobby asked. 

“Oh, did I not tell you?” Lewis asked. “You know Vanessa; she came to the shop with her mom’s car.”

“I remember Vanessa,” Bobby agreed. “She backed into a building and didn’t want her mother to find out. Don’t they normally put a cement block in place so that won’t happen?”

“It was back too close to the building,” Lewis explained, shaking his head. “Someone messed up putting the thing in. It was close enough for the trunk of the car to bump the wall. Vanessa hit the gas instead of the brake when she was backing in. Classic mistake. Lucky she was going slowly enough, there wasn’t too much damage.”

“Lucky no one saw.”

“Oh relax,” Lewis laughed. “The wall did more damage to the car than the other way around. Anyway, the point to all this is that we were talking when she came to pick the car up, one thing led to another, and now she’s by date to the dance.”

“Just like that?” Bobby asked. 

“Well, it’s not exactly rocket science,” Lewis joked. “We have a couple classes together, I’ve been chatting her up for a while now. Why do you think she chose to come to my dad’s shop? Anyway, we were talking, she was laughing – always a good sign – and so I asked. Bam. Simple.”

“Right,” Bobby agreed. “Simple.”

 

_Dear Bobby,_

_Okay, what’s her name? It took nearly three weeks for you to answer my last letter. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not angry. It’s just so uncharacteristic of you that I’m sure it has to be a girl. So, tell me, what’s her name?_

_Melanie and I are going to a party at a senior’s house later tonight. Jordan and Kyle (Melanie’s boyfriend) are going to meet us there, since our parents will be less suspicious of us going somewhere together. Dad will freak if he finds out, so I’ve got to keep it a secret. He’s already suspicious of me. Mom insists that all girls go through a wild phase, like Lizzie did, but I don’t really think that hanging out with my friends is particularly wild. I just wish Dad would get off of my back. We used to be so close, but I can hardly have a conversation with him without it turning into a yelling match._

_Anyway, I don’t mean to bore you with my family life. There’s really nothing else too exciting happening here. Hope to hear from you soon,_

_Love,  
Alex_


	19. A Shred of Happiness

The past months had been some of the happiest Bobby had had since moving to Canarsie. He went to Lewis’s after school every day, just to hang out and to work. He and Lewis worked together under the indirect supervision of Lewis’s father, who was incredibly nice to Bobby. A few times a week Maisie and Vanessa also came to the shop and the hours passed in a blur of axel grease and laughter. Sometimes Bobby could convince the usually shy Maisie to sing for them. She had a remarkable voice, which he told her regularly. When Lewis’s dad wasn’t in the shop, Vanessa and Lewis would often get into one of the cars and make out, while Bobby continued to work and talk with Maisie, both of them too cautious to take a risk like that. 

Bobby’s mother had been on a fairly even keel lately. He hadn’t had to wander the street searching for her in a number of months. The conspiracy theories had dwindled, and most of the time Bobby was able to reel her in before she got too worked up. Sometimes he almost dared to hope that she was really getting better, despite knowing that there was no cure for schizophrenia. 

Frank was out more and more. He had told their mother that he had gone to college for science, but Bobby knew that he spent most of his time getting high. Still, he was also moving through life about the same, no better or worse. Bobby had shot up in height considerably since middle school, and had discovered to his great delight that he was now taller than his brother. In a particularly good mood, Bobby had laughed and rushed over to drop his elbow on his brother’s head, as Frank had so often done to him in their childhood. “I’m taller than you!” Bobby had exclaimed with childish enthusiasm. Frank had just grumbled and moved on, but Bobby refused to have his good mood dashed. 

He still wrote to Alex regularly. Her relationship with Jordan had crashed and burned when she discovered him making out with a cheerleader behind the bleachers after school one afternoon. She assured Bobby that he didn’t need to come and beat the guy up; she hadn’t really fallen too hard for him. A few weeks later Bobby learned that she had traded a junior with car in for a senior with a motorcycle. No wonder she and her father fought so often. 

Bobby still cared for Alex a great deal. He would never forget the years of their childhood friendship. He always looked forward to getting a letter from her; reading it over and over again eagerly. Sometimes he even thought that he held on to a feeling stronger than friendship for her, but their lives had grown so far apart and different. 

Overall, Bobby was very happy with his life. In hindsight, he should have realized it was all too good to last. 

 

“Why aren’t you moving? What happened to you? GET UP!”

“Ma?” Bobby asked. He rushed towards the apartment at breakneck speed. “Ma!” 

Bobby threw open the door to find his mother sobbing over his brother. “You!” she yelled when she saw Bobby. “What have you done?”

Bobby ignored her, dropping to his knees next to his brother. “Frank?” he asked. “Frank!” There was no response. “Come on, man!” Bobby yelled, shaking him. 

“Don’t you touch my boy!” His mother slapped him across the face – hard. Face smarting, Bobby turned towards the door, intent on getting one of the neighbors to call 911. 

“You!” His mother’s arms were around his neck, pulling. “You murdered my son!”

“Get off!” Bobby yelled, pulling her hands away from his throat. “I think he’s overdosed; I have to call an ambulance!”

“You’re calling _them_!”

Bobby threw himself towards the door, his height and strength allowing him to carry his mother like a human cape. “Enough about them!” Bobby yelled. He was almost at the door when she dug her fingernails into his face, attempting to claw his eyes out. 

“Argh!” he yelled, grabbing her hands. “Get OFF me!” He seized one of her arms and yanked, pulling her around in front of him. He could see that she was terrified, her eyes wide and roaming, her hands flailing. Finding Frank passed out had likely sent her into another episode. 

But Bobby was terrified too. His heart was racing. He had no idea how long his brother had. He made a break for the door again, only to have her grab his arm and tug, nearly pulling him over. “Stop it!” Bobby screamed, shaking her off. “Stop!” When she reached to grab him again, he flung an arm out, sending her crashing into the ground. 

Bobby turned and raced blindly out, banging on the neighbor’s door. He had never hurt her before. 

 

Bobby sat numbly in the hospital chair. Both his brother and his mother had been admitted. He sat fidgeting, waiting for someone to come and tell him something. He had caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror when he’d gone in to throw some water on his face. He looked awful. Pale and frightened, with long red marks extending from his eyes where his mother had dug her nails in. At long last, a doctor entered the room, asking, “Frank Goren?”

Bobby shot up and rushed over. “I’m his brother,” Bobby said. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s doing fairly well now,” the doctor assured him. “We’re keeping him here for observation until he’s over the worst of it, but he’s stable now.”

Bobby nodded, relieved. 

“Now, obviously it would be best for your brother to enter a rehabilitation program,” the doctor explained. “But these aren’t covered by medical insurance. A social worker will come by to talk to him about narcotics anonymous, but I’m afraid that’s all the hospital can do.”

Bobby nodded again. Maybe, if he took on another job he could get his brother a bed in a rehab program… after he paid off the hospital bill for both Frank and his mother. He could try to convince his brother to go to the meetings…

“But I’m more concerned for your mother.”

“Why?” Bobby demanded. “What happened to her?”

“Well, she has paranoid-”

“Schizophrenia, I know,” Bobby interjected. 

“Who takes care of her?” the doctor asked. 

“I do,” Bobby replied. 

“Okay,” the doctor said gently. “But does she have a psychiatrist, someone to help her with her disease?”

“She has a prescription from her doctor, but she doesn’t go to see him very often. I make sure she takes her meds,” Bobby said defensively. “I try to keep her from going off the edge. It was just that I had to take care of Frank this time and… it won’t happen again!”

The doctor rubbed his face wearily. “Son,” he said gently, “I’m sure you do the best you can. But your mother’s illness requires professional help.”

“I take care of her,” Bobby insisted. “I told you, I won’t let it get this out of hand again!”

“But it will happen again,” the doctor insisted. “To no fault of your own. Schizophrenia is an unpredictable disease.”

“I know,” Bobby replied. “I know; she’s had it since I was seven. I know how to care for her.”

“But what about when you go to college?” the doctor asked. “What then?”

Bobby paused. He hadn’t thought of that. “I won’t go,” he said decisively. “I’ll stay home and take care of her.”

“I assume you’ll have to work,” the doctor said. “What if this happens when you’re working?”

“I… I don’t know.” Bobby felt his resolve crumble. He had failed. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t take care of his mother. 

“I strongly urge you to look into long term mental health care for your mother,” the doctor suggested. “I know of some places with good reputations.”

“I’ll look into it,” Bobby said. 

The doctor nodded. “I’ll get some pamphlets for you, and then I’ll take you to your brother’s room.”

Bobby trailed listlessly behind the doctor. He couldn’t imagine putting his mother in a home. He took the pamphlets the doctor offered him and settled down in a chair next to Frank’s bed. He began flipping through them absentmindedly. He continually glanced between the pamphlets and his sleeping brother. Because he knew one thing for sure. The homes for his mother were only partially covered by Medicare. The rest would have to come out of pocket. Even if Bobby managed to find a second job, there was no way he could afford a place for his mother in a mental health centre and a bed for his brother in rehab. 

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Bobby whispered. At the sound of his name, Frank’s eyes opened. 

“Little brother?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“You overdosed,” Bobby replied. “You’re in the hospital.”

Frank nodded, then rubbed his hands over his arms. He was shaking. “It’s cold in here, Bobby.”

“The shaking’s from detox,” Bobby replied. “The sweats will start soon, then you won’t be cold.”

“It’s really cold,” his brother repeated, teeth chattering. Bobby pulled the blankets up higher, tucking them under his brother’s chin. “C-c-cold,” Frank repeated. 

Bobby set the pamphlets down and sat up on his brother’s bed. “Come here,” he muttered, lying on his side and wrapping his arms around his brother. 

“Goodnight, little brother,” Frank managed to say through chattering teeth, as if they were little boys again. Only now, it was Bobby’s arms wrapped around Frank. 

Bobby squeezed his eyes, trying to block the tears. “Goodnight, big brother,” he choked out. 

 

Bobby walked into the bar, glancing around. It had been years since he’d been here with his father. His mother certainly hadn’t made it a priority to visit his paternal grandfather after William left. 

He was in luck. It was early still, not too many people around. And his grandfather was behind the bar, organizing something on a shelf on the back wall. “Grandpa?” Bobby asked. 

The man spun around, squinting. “Frankie?” he asked. 

“No,” Bobby said. “It’s-”

“Bobby!” he interrupted heartily. “I didn’t recognize you there for a second; you’ve grown so tall!”

Bobby smiled self-consciously. “I know it’s been years,” he said apologetically. 

“No worries,” his grandfather said. “I know you’ve been busy. And your mother hasn’t exactly been my biggest fan. Not that I can blame her,” he added quickly. 

“I actually came for a reason,” Bobby began. 

“Sit, sit,” his grandfather insisted. “Let me get you a drink.”

“Uh, Grandpa, I’m only-”

“Sixteen, I know,” his grandfather interrupted. “You think I’d forget one of my only two grandson’s birthdays? I’ll get you a coke or something.”

“No, thanks,” Bobby said. 

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Bobby insisted. “Grandpa, I was wondering if I could get a job working for you.” He had begun speaking hesitantly, but now the words tumbled out. “I’m already working part time at a body shop, but I really need another job. So even if I could just pick up a couple of hours I’d really appreciate it.”

“What do you need a second job for, boy?” his grandfather demanded. 

“Ma… and Frank,” Bobby said. He took a deep breath, knowing he’d have to explain. “They’re in the hospital. The doctor said Ma needs more experienced permanent care. Frank’s got a drug problem. I need to raise enough money to get a place for Ma to stay, and my brother can’t really help out right now.” Bobby looked up, meeting his grandfather’s gaze. “Please, Grandpa. I promise I’ll work harder than anyone you’ve ever hired before.”

“Good grief boy,” his grandfather sighed. “You’re only sixteen! You’re supposed to be out enjoying your high school years, not being the man of the house! When did you get to be so responsible?”

“Someone has to be,” Bobby replied, the words coming out automatically. But there was no resentment in his tone, only resignation. 

His grandfather looked him over, shaking his head. “You know, I wonder sometimes how you turned out as good as you have. I know William liked playing the ponies more than he ever did caring for a family. Don’t get me wrong – I love my son. But Lord knows he was never much of a father to you and your brother. Not to mention that mother of yours-”

“She did the best she could,” Bobby interjected quickly, defending her. 

“I’m sure she did,” his grandfather said quickly, soothingly. “But I’m sure you still missed out on much of your fair share of mothering over the years.”

Bobby sighed, not wanting to get into a discussion about his family. “Look, Grandpa. Can you find some work for me, or not?”

His grandfather looked him over again, and Bobby realized now what he saw in the look. His grandfather was an old man now, wife dead, son who knows where, two grandsons he rarely got to see in the custody of a mother who hated him. He was lonely. Bobby immediately felt guilt wash over him. He should have made it a point to visit more often. 

“You got your driver’s licence?” his grandfather asked, interrupting Bobby’s reverie. 

“No,” Bobby replied. 

“Well get on that,” his grandfather said. “I can spot you some cash for the test when you’re ready. I’ve got this bar and I co-own a club a bit of a distance from here,” he explained. “Sometimes I need to deliver merchandise from one place to another, or I need someone to pick stuff up. Once you get your license you can drive the truck out back. But for now, I’ll take you on to help take in deliveries and stock the place. You can help clean up too.”

Bobby sighed with relief. “Thank you, Grandpa.”

“No thanks necessary,” his grandfather replied. “It brings this old man some pleasure to see what a great young man his grandson is turning out to be.”

Bobby flushed scarlet, unused to receiving a compliment. “So… uh, when can I start?”

 

Bobby pushed open the front doors of the Carmel Ridge Centre, holding the paperwork to admit his mother. 

“Hello,” the woman at the desk said, smiling. 

“Hello,” Bobby replied. “I have the papers here with me. For getting my mother a place here.” He passed the papers over the desk, watching the woman flip through them. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t accept this,” she said. 

“Do you not have a room available anymore?” Bobby asked. 

“No, it’s not that,” she replied. “It’s the commitment form here,” she said, flipping the package open to show him. 

“What’s wrong?” Bobby asked. 

“Your birthdate,” she replied. “You’re sixteen?”

“Yes,” Bobby replied. 

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “But the person signing the commitment papers must be the age of majority.”

Bobby accepted the package back blankly. It would be another two years before he could legally admit his mother in a place like this. The woman handed him a blank commitment paper. “If there’s someone else in your family who’s eighteen or older, they can sign this,” she said sympathetically. 

Bobby’s first thought was his grandfather. But since his parents were divorced, his grandfather couldn’t legally sign the paperwork either. Then he remembered. The forms only required someone who was of a legal age. What did it matter if that person was a drug addict? They would never know. 

 

“Frank,” Bobby said, walking into his brother’s room. “I need you to sign this.”

“What is it?” Frank asked. 

“It’s commitment papers. For Ma. I’ve got everything filled out already; it just needs your signature.”

“You’re putting Ma in a home?” Frank asked, accepting the papers.

“It’s a long term mental health care facility,” Bobby said. “The doctor thinks it’s best for her to get constant supervised professional care. And I can’t do it.” Bobby dropped his head in shame. “Only I’m too young for them to accept my signature on the papers.”

“Okay,” Frank agreed, scrawling his signature across it. 

“You didn’t even read it,” Bobby accused. 

“Bobby,” Frank said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “I know you’d only do what’s best for Ma.” This statement left Bobby feeling like a complete jerk. 

 

“Bobby,” Maisie greeted. “Thanks for coming. 

“You said it was important.”

“It is,” she replied. “I, uh… I got into a performing arts school.”

“That’s great!” Bobby exclaimed. “I didn’t even know you’d auditioned.”

“I know,” Maisie replied, dropping her gaze. “I didn’t want to tell you until I knew if I’d gotten in or not.” 

“Oh, okay then,” Bobby said. “Congratulations.”

“I won’t see you at school anymore.”

“That’s okay,” Bobby said quickly. “You’ll still live around here, right?”

“Yes,” Maisie said hesitantly. “But I don’t think I’m going to be able to see you anymore.”

Bobby felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. “Why not?” he asked. 

“I’m going to be busy with a lot of school stuff,” she began. 

“That’s okay,” Bobby said quickly. “We don’t have to see each other a lot. I can understand if you’re busy.”

“It’s not just that,” she said. “I don’t think I can do this anymore. With you I mean.”

Bobby dropped his gaze and turned away. He would have thought that he was unable to sink any lower on the emotional scale after the last few days he’d had, but he was wrong. 

“I can see that I’ve hurt you,” Maisie said, “and I’m so sorry for that Bobby. Really I am. The truth is, I never would have been brave enough to audition if it wasn’t for you. And for that I’ll always be grateful.”

“Then why?” Bobby asked flatly. 

“I feel as though I barely know anything about you,” she began. 

“It’s not like I know everything about you either. Just because I don’t feel like going on about everything-”

“That’s not the point,” Maisie interrupted. “You don’t need to make excuses for me. I know how it is. You’re just private – about everything. You know everything about me and I know nothing about you.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re just as much a mystery to me as you were the day I met you,” Maisie said. “And that is the truth. You managed to get me to tell you my life story on that first day at the library, but I wouldn’t have even known you had a brother if Lewis hadn’t mentioned it at the shop that one time. You hide things from me. You change the subject when I ask about anything personal. A relationship can’t be one-sided.”

“I care about you, Maisie,” Bobby said earnestly. 

“I believe you,” she said, her blue eyes sad. “And I care about you. But it isn’t enough. I can’t love someone I don’t know. I’m done with being kept in the dark. And I don’t think you’re done keeping secrets.”

She couldn’t love him. Did he love Maisie? He wasn’t sure. But he did know that there was a burning in his chest that had nothing to do with breathing in the city air. “Good luck at your new school.”

And he walked away from one of the few people who brought a shred of happiness into his life. But not the last one. When he got home, he picked up his pen to write to his best friend, because Alex always knew what to say. 

_Dear Alex,_

_Maisie has left._


	20. Heartbreak

Bobby wandered towards his now empty apartment at five in the morning after finishing at his grandfather’s bar. Last call came a lot later than he had expected. Who wants to sit at a bar and drink until five in the morning? He considered simply staying awake until school, but then he wouldn’t have time to sleep. Right after school he did homework in the library and then went straight to the body shop. From there, a quick meal and off to the bar. Then home for a few hours of sleep and repeat. 

Saturday he worked at the body shop all morning and part of the afternoon and started at the bar sooner. Sunday was the only day he had time off. Lewis’s father had refused to have him working seven days a week, and gave him the day off. But people drink every day of the week, so Bobby trekked off to the bar in the afternoon. He spent most of the morning trying to make up for all the lost sleep of the week. He had only been following this routine for a couple of weeks, and already he felt as if exhaustion had settled into his very bones. 

He wished he could say that it was worth it, but his mother had been so furious she hadn’t allowed him to visit yet, unless he was coming to get her out. He was having serious second thoughts, but so far he’d decided that it would be best to wait out her anger. 

On his way into the building, he saw a flower box with one lonely flower blowing in the harsh wind. It reminded him of Alex – one of the few strong and beautiful people in his life. He considered sending it to her in one of his letters, but that would require picking it. Better to leave it where it was. 

Bobby pushed open the door to the apartment. “Frank?” he asked. His brother was indeed standing in the apartment for the first time in weeks. He was dressed, hair combed, eyes fully aware and no longer bloodshot. He was clean. 

“Bobby,” Frank replied, smiling. “The meetings are taking, little brother,” Frank said. “I’ve been clean since leaving the hospital.”

“That’s great,” Bobby said hesitantly. It certainly seemed to be the case. 

“I know I’m not going to gain your trust right away,” Frank said. “But I’m going to make it up to you and Ma. I’m going to see her this afternoon. I’ll make sure she understands that you were doing what’s best for her.”

“Thanks,” Bobby said. “You’ll ask her if she’ll let me visit?”

“Sure,” Frank replied. “I’m going to move in with my girlfriend, Bobby. It’s a tiny crappy place, but the two of us are going to make it work.”

“You’re getting a place in a junkie apartment?” Bobby asked nervously. 

“Don’t worry little brother. I’ve got everything under control.”

“Okay,” Bobby said hesitantly. “Listen, Frank, I’ve got to get some sleep before school. You’re welcome to crash here for a few hours.”

“Thanks, man,” Frank said. “I’m not going to let you down.”

“No worries,” Bobby replied. He could almost believe him. 

 

_Dear Bobby,_

_You rarely write me anymore. When you do, it’s barely more than a few lines. You mentioned that you were working at your grandfather’s bar. Are you working too much? Or are you still upset about Maisie? You have such a tender heart Bobby. I hate to think that she broke it. I wish there was something I could do to help._

_Please write me, Bobby. I wish I could talk to you in person. But since that’s impossible, could you try and write to me? Tell me what’s going on. Take care of yourself. Love,_

_Alex_

Bobby flopped back on his bed and sighed. He was so busy and tired that he could barely manage to scrawl a line or two to Alex before he collapsed into an exhausted sleep. He had barley even had enough time to think about Maisie. It had hurt to break up with her, but he didn’t think his heart was broken. 

Maybe it would be best if he were to stop writing to Alex. His life revolved around obligation. Hers didn’t have to. He cared about her, but maybe it would be best to free her from his friendship. He wasn’t even able to offer much in the way of conversation. 

He sat up suddenly, thinking. Neither his mother nor Frank lived in the apartment anymore. He worked too often to get away and see her, but maybe she could come and visit… But no. She didn’t want to see him. Her rejection stung two years ago, as did her lie. He’d already been rejected by Maisie. He didn’t think he could bear being rejected by Alex too. He could possibly go to Inwood on a Sunday morning… But again, what if she didn’t want to see him? He couldn’t stand it. 

_Dear Alex,_

_I’ve just been busy. I work a lot. And so I’m tired a lot of the time. Don’t worry. Love,_

_Bobby_

 

“Hey Bobby.”

Bobby dragged his eyes open. “Frank?” he asked. 

“Listen man, I’ve got a favour to ask.”

“What is it?” Bobby asked guardedly. 

“Can you lend me some cash?”

Bobby sat up, studying his brother. “It’s not for drugs, is it?”

“No,” Frank insisted. “I’m clean, I swear.”

“Then what’s the money for?”

“Just to cover some debt. I’m good for it man,” Frank said. “I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“Turn out your pockets.”

“Aww, come on man,” Frank snapped. 

“I’m serious Frank,” Bobby said. “Do it.”

Frank yanked his jeans pockets out, raising his eyebrows at his brother. “Your shirt pocket too.” Frank sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out some change and a few papers. Bobby grabbed them and began opening them, ignoring his brother’s muttered protests. They were receipts. 

“You playing the ponies?” Bobby demanded, his heart sinking. 

“Just a bit,” Frank said. “I thought if I did it right, I might be able to get some winnings. To help pay for rent, and maybe get some extra to help you out.”

“Then get a job!” Bobby snapped. “I work two jobs to keep Ma at Carmel Ridge and me in this apartment! You saw what happened with Dad!”

“Skip the lecture,” Frank groaned. “I just need enough to cover this debt. As soon as I can I’ll pay you back. Enough about how saintly you are working so hard to take care of Ma. You just put her in a home so you wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore!”

“What have you ever done for her?” Bobby demanded. “Just used whatever money she had to buy drugs, and keep feeding her lies! And now you’re going to fall into gambling, just like Dad!”

“And you’re so perfect?” Frank demanded. “Ma doesn’t even want to see you anymore!”

“I do what I have to in order to care for her!” Bobby yelled. “What do you do? Nothing! You never did anything! I don’t have any money to give you, now get out!”

Frank spun around and left, leaving Bobby alone. Bobby sunk down onto the couch, rubbing his hand over his eyes. He didn’t like fighting with his brother. But what could he have done?

 

“Bobby Goren.”

Bobby spun around to face his teacher. “Yes, Ms. Edwards?”

“I need you to stay after class.”

“Oh… Okay,” Bobby agreed. He looked over to Lewis, who shrugged. 

It seemed to take forever for class to end. When it finally did, Bobby promised to meet Lewis afterwards. Bobby went up to the teacher’s desk and waited. 

“Bobby,” Ms. Edwards said. “Is there a reason I don’t have an essay from you?”

Bobby’s heart sunk. “I… I uh, I forgot about it Ms. Edwards.” This was the truth. He barely had enough time to get his regular homework done. The essay had completely slipped his mind. 

“You forgot about it?” his English teacher echoed. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, dropping his gaze to her desk. 

“Bobby,” she sighed, “I trust you realize that an incomplete is an automatic zero in my classroom?”

“Yes ma’am,” Bobby repeated. 

“Your midterm grade was less than stellar as well,” she continued. “As of right now, I can hardly justify giving you a pass in this class.”

Bobby swallowed around the lump in his throat. He had never failed a class before. Especially not English, a class he normally enjoyed. He had just been too busy, and too tired to study properly for his midterms. 

“I find it surprising that your grade has dropped so much since the beginning of the term,” Ms. Edwards said. “You were one of the top students judging by our start of term test scores. Has something happened in your home life to cause this drop in grades?”

Bobby looked back up to meet his teacher’s sympathetic gaze. “I… I’ve needed to work,” he replied. “We had some family troubles. I’ve been trying to raise money to help out.”

His teacher watched him, but Bobby had dropped his gaze back to her desk, unwilling to elaborate. “You’re a bright boy, Bobby,” she said. “I would hate to see you fail this class because of a family situation.”

“Is there anything I can do to bring my grade up?” Bobby asked. 

“I can give you an extra credit assignment,” she said. 

Bobby nodded. “I’d really appreciate it Ms. Edwards.”

“Okay,” she said thoughtfully. “We just finished the unit on short stories. Write me one. Five hundred to one thousand words.”

“What should it be about, Ms. Edwards?”

“Anything you want,” she replied, smiling. “I expect proper grammar and spelling, of course, and make sure you include some character development. The story should have a logical flow.”

“Any specific genre?” Bobby asked. 

“No,” she replied. “Use your creativity, Mr. Goren. I expect to have it on my desk by the end of the week. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll be getting a failing grade.”

“Thank you,” Bobby said. 

Ms. Edwards nodded. “You deserve a chance, Bobby. I believe you have it in you to not only pass, but do well in this course. I look forward to reading your story.”

 

Bobby sat in the library, tapping his pencil eraser against the table. What on earth was he supposed to write about? The parameters were incredibly broad. He had to come up with something quickly if he was to meet the deadline. 

Too bad he couldn’t use his letters to Alex. If he included all of them, he could write Ms. Edwards a novel. Suddenly, an idea occurred to Bobby. Why not use something he knew about as a baseline? Now he just needed a theme. What was a more common theme than good and evil? 

Bobby picked up his pencil and began writing. And as he wrote, the words just flowed out easily, as if he’d been planning to write this story for a long time. By the time he finished, Bobby discovered he’d only been writing for about half an hour and was already finished. He’d edit it tomorrow. 

 

“Ms. Edwards?” Bobby asked. “I have my extra credit assignment.”

The teacher held out her hand to accept it. “Very good, Bobby. You’re even finished a day early. What genre did you decide to write in?”

“Fantasy,” Bobby replied. He sincerely hoped that he had managed to get a decent grade. 

_**Heartbreak** _

_In a world where angels and demons exist, a young demon dreamed of becoming mortal. Though he was allowed to float through the mortal world, invisible, he longed to be a part of it. Finally, the devil allowed him the chance to live a mortal life – but afterwards he would be damned to hell for the next hundred thousand years._

_He was given the mortal name Luther. Born to a mortal couple, he possessed no memory of his former demon life. It was within his first few years of life that he met the mortal girl. And she was not only mortal, but beautiful, in a way that went beyond the physical. Though her sparkling eyes and long blonde hair would turn the heads of many, it was the metaphysical beauty that appealed to Luther even more. Perhaps the demon part of him buried deep within could sense the unattainable beauty of her soul._

_Luther and the mortal girl spent many long hours together as young children. This was before he learned of what he truly was. It was around his eighth mortal year that Luther was visited by the devil, who reminded him of his true self. He also delivered the warning that he would succumb to his inner nature._

_Along with memories of his past, Luther was again able to possess the vision of angels and demons. He could see the forces of evil at work in the mortal world. But his beautiful friend remained untouched. She was his refuge from his troubled reality. Luther vowed to never allow evil to touch her life. He would try his best to contain it. He would supress his own inner nature._

_It wasn’t until many years later that Luther was finally forced to see. He was pulled apart from his friend by forces beyond his control. But he also began to realize that maybe it was for the best. He had come to care for the mortal girl more than he should. With closeness came danger, not for him, but for her; because the devil was always searching for innocent human souls. And her proximity to a demon could only lead to her own undoing._

_Luther had seen it happen before. Those close to him were pulled away. His brother was held captive by the demon of temptation. His mother had suffered years in the clutches of the demon of insanity. He barely remembered his mortal father – claimed years ago by the demon of abandonment. And all of this, Luther knew, circled back to him. Unwittingly, yes, but still the fault was his. For Luther was the demon of heartbreak, and all of those around him were at risk. Even his own mortal heart was flayed by the demon within._

_Though he remained apart from his friend, they found ways to communicate with each other. Luther would sometimes find a rose tucked away for him to find. He would use his demonic powers to rearrange the clouds and spell out messages to her._

_Despite their physical separation, their hearts grew ever closer. And the time came when Luther realized that what he felt for her was love. Not perverted demonic infatuation, but something pure and beautiful. His love for her must certainly come from the decent, mortal part of him. But he could not act on his love, because love was the easiest way for heartbreak to get in._

_Luther thought he was never to see the mortal girl again. But their paths unwittingly crossed. As he drank in the sight of his love, Luther began to realize that something was wrong. Something about her had faded. She had been touched by evil. He knew not what evil had touched her, for there was no demon clinging to her. It was then that Luther saw the devil lurking in the shadows. He dared Luther to release his inner demon. The girl was fragile, ready. Her soul would be his for the taking. This was a perfect way for a demonic obsession to be realized. But this beautiful girl meant everything to Luther. She meant more to him than his own mortal life. So Luther forced himself away from his love, and ended his mortal life. He could not bear the thought of bringing evil into her life._

_Luther did not fear death. He did not even fear damnation to hell. The only thought that plagued him was that with the departure of his mortal soul, the memory of his mortal love would follow. But this was not the case. Down in the depths of hell, Luther understood his true inner nature. Because he remembered his love well; his senses even keener. And he knew that he would never walk the earth with her again. A rose left for him would eventually be trampled. No more messages would await her in the sky. The mortal girl would grow up, grow old, and die. And Luther would never get to be a part of that. Luther was damned to live forever without her._

_The devil laughed, patting Luther heartily on the back. “You understand now why I let you do it?” he asked. “Now you know what heartbreak is. From now until eternity; heartbreak is all you will know.”_


	21. Blackmail

“Bobby,” Ms. Edwards said. It was the end of English class. She held out his assignment. Bobby saw a large red A on the front. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Congratulations,” Ms. Edwards said. “It seems you’ve managed to pull your grade up considerably.”

“Thank you,” Bobby said, accepting the papers back. 

“Don’t thank me,” she replied. “It was well deserved. But I wanted to talk to you about your story.”

“What is it?” Bobby asked. 

“I wonder if you might want to speak to a guidance counselor,” she suggested gently. 

“Why?” Bobby asked, his heart hammering. 

“I can’t help but wonder if some of your story is based on reality,” Ms. Edwards suggested. She had Frank Goren in her English class a few years previously. The demon of temptation… that would certainly fit. And if his mother really was mentally ill, and his father abandoned the family, that would certainly explain her student’s faltering grades. 

“The story was fantasy, not non-fiction,” Bobby hedged. 

“I realize that,” Ms. Edwards replied. “But if you’re having trouble at home, it might help to talk to someone.”

“There’s no such thing as angels and demons,” Bobby said instead. Then he turned and fled the room. He was grateful for his grade, but he didn’t want to get into a discussion about his family. He knew Ms. Edwards meant well, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He was too tired to even think straight, let alone get into his issues with anyone. 

 

Bobby wiped a cloth over the counter, pausing to scrub at a partially dried stain. He glanced over his shoulder. He needed to grab some more scotch. It was his job to keep the bar stocked so his grandfather could stay out front with the customers. 

“Bobby,” his grandfather called. 

Bobby dropped the cloth and headed over to the cash where his grandfather was standing. “Yes?”

“William stopped by earlier today,” his grandfather said, wiping some dust off of the top of the register. 

“Dad was here?” Bobby asked disbelievingly. 

“He stops by sometimes when he needs cash,” his grandpa said. “But every so often he stops in just for a visit.” 

Bobby found that hard to believe. William wasn’t the type to stop in for a friendly chat. 

“I told him you were working here,” his grandfather continued. “Told him how hard you work to take care of yourself and your mother. You know, my partner at the club scoffed at my hiring you, saying family never thinks they have to work as hard. But you work harder than any other employee I’ve had.”

“Thank you,” Bobby said. 

“Don’t thank me, boy, it’s true. Anyway, I told him how hard you work, and I managed to convince him to leave some money for you.”

“What?” Bobby asked, his mouth falling open. 

“Well, I know for a fact he never made good on his support to your mother for you and your brother, so I told him – William, you owe your boy. He’s growing up into a fine young man, and the least you could do is help him out.”

“And… he did?” Bobby asked disbelievingly. 

“Here,” his grandfather said, handing him a small stack of bills. “I know it isn’t much, not nearly what he owes, but it’s something.”

“Thanks,” Bobby replied softly. 

That night, when his grandfather was out front, Bobby slipped the money back into the cash register. If his father had any money it would go towards women or gambling. In fact, he never even would have stopped by the bar if he had any money. And his grandfather’s bar wasn’t doing well enough for Bobby to take the cash without feeling guilty. 

 

_Dear Alex,_

_I hope you and Jeremy didn’t end up getting caught. Not to lecture you or anything, but are you sure that riding his motorcycle with him at midnight to go to a party is really a good idea? Still, from what you’ve told me your dad was out of line calling him an Attica lifer in the making._

_I ended up getting an A on that short story for extra credit in English. Thank goodness, now I’ll have a passing grade. I had to drop some hours at Grandpa’s bar. I’ll end up having to repeat the year if I keep going how I’ve been going. I’m only working at the bar on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday now. Those are the busier nights. If I plan it properly, I can get any bigger projects done on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights. And honestly, this sounds so lame but I’m just glad to get more sleep every night._

_What have you been up to? Keeping out of trouble? Honestly Alex, try not to get too mad at your dad. He only fights with you because he cares. My dad and I never fought, and look how good our relationship is. Anyway, I really hope you don’t feel like I’m lecturing you, because I don’t mean to. Hope to hear from you soon._

_Love,  
Bobby_

_Dear Bobby,_

_No, Jeremy and I didn’t get caught. And don’t worry, we’re perfectly safe. He’s a good driver, licensed and everything. And he brings an extra helmet for me, so neither of us are going to end up having our brains splattered all over the road. Dad was so out of line saying that about Jeremy. All because he has a juvenile record and a motorcycle, honestly. Dad wouldn’t even know about the record if he wasn’t a cop! He drives me really crazy sometimes. Do you know he’s done a background check on all of mine and Liz’s boyfriends? He doesn’t trust us at all!_

_I get what you’re saying Bobby, but honestly Dad is too much. I know he loves us, but so does Mom and she’s not constantly yelling and driving me nuts. And I have to go to parties at midnight, because last time I left for one at a decent hour, Dad followed us there! Can you believe it? He burst right in and announced that he was arresting everyone for underage drinking if the party didn’t break up. He wouldn’t even let Jeremy take me home. He drove me home himself – dragged me right out by the arm! I think I was probably lucky to escape handcuffs. It’s not like I go out every night – only on the weekends, and even then, not every weekend._

_Anyway, enough about Dad. I’m glad that you’re dropping some work hours. It’s for the best, really. It’s too bad that you have to work so often. And I’m sure now that you have some more time your grades will come right back up again. You’re too smart to fail out. Hey, do you think I could read your story? I’d really like to. It must be good if you got an A on it. Miss you,_

_Love,  
Alex_

_Dear Alex,_

_Geez, thanks for that visual. Glad to hear that your brains are going to stay in your head. And I guess I can see what you’re saying about being dragged out of a party by your dad. It’s a little extreme._

_And no, you don’t need to read my story. It’s just some stupid English project._

_Love,  
Bobby_

_Dear Bobby,_

_I’m serious. I want to read it._

_Alex_

_Alex,_

_Absolutely not._

_Hey Bobby,_

_Do you still have those old photographs from the carnival? Look at the third one._

_Alex,  
Ha ha, very funny. The answer is still no. _

_Bobby,_

_You know I can be as stubborn as you. You should know by now that arguing with me is a waste of time. And also a waste of postage._

_Alex,_

_I don’t really see why you’re being so stubborn about this. Why do you even care?_

_Bobby,_

_I was just curious, and now that you’re being so adamant, I’m even more curious. Come on; what’s the harm? I’m not going to criticize it you know. I’m not answering you again until you send your story!_

_Dear Alex,_

_Here it is. And I’ll have you know that this is blackmail._

_Dear Bobby,_

_So tell my Dad. It’ll give him an excuse to lock me up. As for your story, it was really good! Poor Luther. My heart just breaks for him. He was actually a good guy; bad things just kept happening to him. You know, it’s actually an interesting theory. Evil, such as demons, aren’t really evil – evil is just attracted to them. Hey, since your story is a fantasy anyway, I think you should write a sequel where a hundred thousand years later Luther ends up back on earth and meets his mortal friend’s reincarnated soul. I’ll bet his soul and hers recognize each other right away, no matter how long it’s been. A connection like theirs can’t just fade away. And this time they get to be together. What can I say; I’m a sucker for a happy ending._

_I’d like to think that Luther gets his happy ending. He deserves it._

_Love,  
Alex_

Bobby read her letter over and over, trying to see straight into her mind. Did she realize the story was loosely based on them? If she did, she hadn’t alluded to it. Maybe she hadn’t realized. After all, he couldn’t be in love with her. And even if he was, she would never know. 

_Dear Alex,_

_Luther is a demon. Whether he meant to be evil or not is beside the point. Besides, the mortal girl was destined to become an angel (assuming of course that one subscribes to the view that angels are the departed souls of people. This is a commonly expressed view, although there are many theories of angels. Some say they are beings devoid of emotion, simply doing the work of God. Some say that they are actually creatures with no human resemblance at all. But I see I’ve gone off on a tangent. If you find the subject interesting, I could recommend a book)._

_For the story I borrowed the two main themes to many writings – good and evil and forbidden love. In any case, the story was supposed to be a tragedy. No happy endings for Luther._

_I don’t really think we need to discuss my extra credit assignment anymore. In other news, I tried out for the basketball team at school on a whim. I never went back to the second round of tryouts though. For one thing, I could never make it to team practices. But honestly, I just didn’t have fun playing anymore. I haven’t really played since my dad left us, and I guess it just isn’t the same anymore._

_Hope you’re not under house arrest yet. Miss you;_

_Love,  
Bobby_

 

“Lewis, if I ask you something, will you promise not to laugh?”

“Depends on what it is,” Lewis replied lightly, then looked up to meet his friend’s gaze. “Okay, man,” he said upon seeing Bobby’s expression. “What is it?”

“You won’t laugh?”

“Promise,” Lewis replied. 

“Do you… do you think you can really care for someone you haven’t seen for a long time?” he asked quickly. 

“Is this still about Maisie?” Lewis asked. 

“No, not her,” Bobby replied. “Theoretically.”

“Theoretically,” Lewis repeated. “Well, I guess I’d have to say that if it’s been a long time with no communication-”

“I didn’t say no communication,” Bobby interrupted. “Just not actually seeing the person.”

“What, like phone calls?” Lewis asked. 

“Letters,” Bobby replied. 

“And this is all theoretical?” Lewis asked. Bobby nodded. “Oh BS man,” Lewis said. “You’ve given this way too much thought. Come on, you can tell me. Someone from the old neighborhood?”

Bobby hesitated, then nodded. 

“Seriously, man?” Lewis asked. “You’ve been holding out on me!” 

“She’s special,” Bobby said defensively. “And I’ve known her for a lot longer than I’ve known you.”

“Who is this special girl?” Lewis asked. 

“Does it matter?” Bobby demanded. “You don’t know her.”

“Who is she?” Lewis repeated. 

“She’s just this girl,” Bobby snapped. “I used to play cops and robbers with her at this old park, and we’ve kept in touch, that’s all.”

“Just a girl?” Lewis asked. “You sure you haven’t seen her since you moved?”

“Certain,” Bobby snapped. 

“Chill out, I was just asking. What’s her name?”

“You know, never mind,” Bobby said. “Just forget I said anything.”

“I just asked for her name. Unless she’s one of America’s most wanted, I doubt there’s any harm in telling me that,” he joked. 

“It’s Alex,” Bobby said finally. 

“Alex what?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Lewis asked. “Don’t play dumb.” 

“I’m not!” Bobby insisted. “We never told each other out last names.”

“Weird,” Lewis said. “What did you do when you were playing cops and robbers? Did you just call her Officer Alex?”

“Detective Alex,” Bobby countered, despite the fact that his friend was joking. 

“Oh geez,” Lewis snorted. “If I ever meet this girl, that is definitely what I’m going to call her.”

“Don’t worry,” Bobby said. “You’ll never meet her.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Lewis said. “This conversation made the answer to your question pretty clear. Yes, Bobby. I think it’s very possible.


	22. Excuses

_(Bobby is seventeen; Alex is fifteen)_

Despite the fact that Bobby wanted almost nothing more than to see Alex again, he still hadn’t gone to see her. He was still afraid of rejection. He almost had gone to her at the end of the summer vacation though. Alex’s boyfriend Jeremy had moved away, ending their relationship. She had been devastated; reading of her sadness in her letters nearly broke Bobby’s heart. He had very nearly risked everything going back to Inwood to comfort her. 

But in the end, he had talked himself out of it every time. It was better for both of them if he just stayed away. Finally now she seemed to be doing better. Only Bobby worried about her way of distracting herself. By the sounds of it, she had picked the baddest boy in the school – both to distract herself from missing Jeremy and quite possibly as a ‘you don’t control me’ to her father. 

Bobby recalled what she had said in her last letter – that Reece was fun and exciting. She apparently wasn’t interested in a relationship, just having a good time. There was nothing wrong with that, Bobby supposed. She didn’t have to worry about college yet, better to just enjoy her time while she could. 

Bobby himself didn’t know what he was going to do yet. He knew he couldn’t afford to go to college without getting a scholarship – and it would have to be a good one at that. Besides, he wasn’t sure how well he could handle the increased schoolwork load while working as much as he did. And he needed to work to pay for his mother’s care. 

His mother had started allowing him to visit again for a few months now. She seemed to have accepted that Bobby had done what he thought was best for her and was adjusting to her new life. She was as unpredictable as ever, but Bobby made a point of visiting her at least once a week. 

Bobby had fallen into a routine, which he followed without really thinking about it. He moved through life at about the same pace as always. He had no idea what he was going to do when graduation came around. He was in for a big change, and he didn’t know how well he would be able to handle it. 

 

Bobby’s grandfather slammed down the phone. “Idiots!” he huffed. Bobby glanced up from where he was replacing clean shot glasses. “They’re running out of rum at the club,” his grandfather informed him. “And they just thought to call over now. We can’t run out of any kind of alcohol!” He shook his head irritably. “Bobby, there’s a couple cases in the back. Grab them and head over to the club. We’re just going to have to hope rum isn’t too popular at either place tonight!”

“Okay,” Bobby agreed, placing the last clean shot glass on the shelf. He went out to grab the cases and took them to the truck. He didn’t like going down to the club –the place was generally more crowded than the bar and the co-owner always made him wind his way through all of the people to find him since he was never in the back. 

 

Alex gripped the licence tightly in one hand. “I’m not sure this is going to work,” she said to Melanie. 

“Oh relax,” Melanie said. “It’ll be fine. The guys said they’ve been in plenty of times.”

 _Said they have,_ Alex thought. That didn’t mean that they actually had. Reece had been known to make things up before. He was the one who had asked the others to come. A bunch of guys were going to be there, and Alex had come with Melanie and a few other girlfriends. 

But she shouldn’t worry. The others had done some pre-drinking, but she hadn’t joined in, so her head was still clear. She was in control of the situation. If Reece tried anything, she would just beg off, like she had the last couple times he’d tried. She knew she wasn’t his only girl, and in any case, she didn’t want to go all the way with him. If he thought he was going to get her too drunk to refuse, he was mistaken.

 

Bobby dropped the cases of rum in the back part of the club, and then made his way to the front. Despite the fact that the manager had been the one to call for the rum, Bobby was informed that he needed to let the owner know that it had made it there himself since no other worker could leave their post to do it. 

When he didn’t immediately catch sight of the owner, Bobby’s mind wandered. Since he was often so tired at night, Bobby had taken to planning his letters to Alex while engaging in particularly mind-numbing work. 

Bobby began weaving his way through the crowds, searching for the owner when he caught sight of her. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her. She was at the bar with some boy, sipping from a drink while he whispered something in her ear. She was most certainly underage, that much Bobby could tell. He would be sure to let his grandfather know that they were serving underage kids at the club again. 

That’s when Bobby realized who she looked like. She looked like Alex. But it couldn’t be her. She had curled her hair, and she was wearing a lot of makeup. And he had certainly never seen Alex in a short black skirt or sparkly halter top. Then again, he hadn’t seen her since she was a kid. It was dark in the club, so he couldn’t be sure. He walked closer, attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

“Reece!” she exclaimed. He didn’t hear what she said next, but the name… that was the name of the guy Alex had written about in her letters. He edged closer. Before he could hear anything else, a girl stumbled over and grabbed her by the arm. 

“Alex,” the girl half shouted. “Alyssa said that Kenzie’s in the bathroom puking her guts out. I’m going to go check on her.”

“I’ll come with you,” Alex said, setting her drink on the counter. “I’ll be back,” she said to Reece. She didn’t wait for an answer before following the other girl to the bathroom. Bobby frowned at Reece, who was watching the two girls weave their way through the crowds with an unreadable expression. He still couldn’t be sure that this Alex was his friend. He turned back to watch them disappear into the crowd, then resumed scanning for his grandfather’s business partner. What did it matter if it was her or not? What could he do anyway?

 

Bobby returned to the back with the mop. This was the third guy in one night to spill his beer all over the floor. Lucky the place wasn’t as crowded as the club, and the patrons didn’t seem to mind him out in front with a mop. 

The phone rang as he was setting the mop down, and he jogged over to answer it. 

“We need more Vodka,” the voice on the other end said without preamble. 

“I was just there two hours ago to bring over some rum,” Bobby said irritably. 

“What do you want from me man; it’s been a Vodka night!”

“I’ll be back there as soon as I can,” Bobby sighed. 

He hated the night before new inventory came in more than any other. And this particular night was even worse; twice in one night he’d be taking the truck to the club. Tonight was just not his lucky night.

 

The crowd had gotten rowdier since Bobby had last been at the club. He had managed to find the owner, and was now picking his way back through the crowd, attempting to not get pulled into a group of people dancing. 

He had made it about halfway when a girl tripped, and would have face-planted had he not reached out to steady her. “Careful,” he said. “You don’t want to get trampled.” She looked up at him, and he realized that this was the girl in the skirt and sparkly top he had seen earlier. “Alex,” he said aloud. 

“How do you know?” she asked. She seemed to be much more intoxicated that last time he was there, swaying slightly where she stood. He still could have cursed himself for being so stupid. 

“It’s Bobby,” he said as way of an explanation. If this wasn’t her, she probably wouldn’t even remember this awkward conversation by the morning anyway. It probably wasn’t her; she looked so different from how he remembered. 

For a moment she just stared at him blankly, but then she broke out into a wide smile. And that’s when he knew for sure – it was her. “Not _my_ Bobby,” she said delightedly. “ _My_ Bobby is little.” She held her hand up, her finger and thumb about an inch apart to demonstrate. 

His heart hammered at an increased pace at her description – my Bobby. “I’ve certainly grown over the past four years,” he said, “But so have you.”

“You’re really my Bobby?” she asked. “Prove it!” 

Bobby thought carefully. “You have an older sister Lizzie and a younger brother Timmy. Your dad is a cop.”

“Everyone knows that,” she countered. 

“When we were little kids we talked about getting married and moving to Hawaii to live in a treehouse.”

He was rewarded with another smile. “You are my Bobby!” she exclaimed. 

“Alex?” Bobby and Alex both turned to see Reece making his way towards them. 

“Reece – this is my Bobby!” she exclaimed. 

Reece didn’t answer. He glanced between Alex and Bobby with narrowed eyes and reached to take Alex’s hand. “Come on,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”

“But you don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve just found my Bobby!”

“You’re coming home with me.”

“That’s not a good idea.” 

“She doesn’t have to go with you if she doesn’t want to,” Bobby interrupted. 

“Hey buddy,” Reece snapped, “I’ve already got this one ready for the taking – go find your own girl!”

“This one?” Bobby echoed angrily. “Ready for the taking?”

“I need to find Melanie,” Alex said suddenly, seeming oblivious to the other two. She turned away to start making her way through the crowd again. Reece made to follow her, but Bobby stepped in front of him. 

“You had better clear off,” Bobby said dangerously. Reece tried to get around him, but Bobby wouldn’t let him. “You leave her alone.”

“Or what?”

“You don’t want to know,” Bobby replied in his most threatening tone. He drew himself up to his full height. Seeming to realize that Bobby had him beat by size and strength, Reece scowled and walked away. Bobby turned back to look for Alex, breathing a sigh of relief. He spotted her standing by the door. 

“Alex,” he said. 

“I think my friends have left,” she told him. 

“Come here,” Bobby said, taking her hand. “You’ve got to get out of here.”

She followed him willingly, although she was stumbling quite a lot. “Jesus, Alex,” Bobby muttered. “What were you thinking getting drunk with that guy?” He knew it wasn’t his place to lecture her, but he couldn’t help it. Thinking about that prick taking advantage of his friend made him want to punch something. 

“I’m not drunk,” she said, then countered that point by tripping over her own feet again. 

“Right,” Bobby agreed sarcastically. 

“I only had whatever Reece got me,” she said. “But I didn’t even finish that.” She stopped and looked him over, smiling again. “You’re really tall now.”

Bobby ignored the change in subject, anger burning in the pit of his stomach. _Whatever Reece got me_ … Whatever it was, he suspected there was more than alcohol in it. He had already ‘got this one ready for the taking’ after all. 

“I’m going to get you home,” Bobby said. And then he was going to go back into the club and find Reece, and pulverize him. 

“No way!” Alex exclaimed. “My dad is going to kill me! Kill me! I am so not going!” She turned and attempted to run away, stumbling along. 

Bobby jogged after her, cut her off, and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Don’t run,” he said. “Please. I’m just trying to help.”

“Am I under arrest, Detective Bobby?” she asked cheekily. 

“Listen,” Bobby said. “I’ve got to get the truck back to my Grandpa’s bar. Come with me.”

“You’re voice is different than I remember,” she said, but she walked along with him anyway. “And you’re so tall! We both used to be so little. Remember you said maybe I’d have a growth spurt and I said I’d look down at the top of your head? But that didn’t happen. I’d have to be a lot taller.” She looked around. “Like this.” She broke away again, and climbed up unsteadily onto a bench. 

“Okay,” Bobby agreed. “I see. Now come down.”

“Make me.”

“Oh geez,” Bobby muttered. He went over and grabbed her by the legs. She put her arms on his shoulders and laughed when he picked her up. He brought her over to his grandfather’s truck and lowered her to the ground by the door. This would be difficult to explain to his grandfather…

 

“Bobby,” his grandfather said sternly. “You were supposed to be dropping something off. _Not_ picking someone up.”

“Her boyfriend put something in her drink,” Bobby explained. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alex interrupted. 

“Okay,” Bobby agreed. “Anyway, I know her from the old neighborhood. I couldn’t just leave her there with that dirtbag! Besides, she’s only fifteen. They’re serving underage girls at the club again.”

“Those idiots,” his grandfather said. “They’re going to end my business that way.”

“Grandpa,” Bobby pleaded. “Let me take her home. I couldn’t leave her there. I’ve never asked to leave early before.”

“I don’t want to go home!” Alex repeated. “My dad is going to go crazy!”

“Little lady,” Bobby’s grandfather chastised, “You have bigger problems than how your parents are going to react. You’re damn lucky my grandson found you there!”

“Right,” Alex agreed. “But you don’t know my dad.”

Bobby’s grandfather shook his head. “Alright, Bobby,” he said. “You’re right; this would be the first time you’ve ever left early. And your little friend here is certainly not going to make it back home on her own.” He shook his head again. 

“Thank you,” Bobby said gratefully. “Come on, Alex,” he said to his friend. 

“I’m not going home,” she repeated stubbornly, but again, she followed him. 

Bobby began running the plan of action through his mind. He would have to take a cab to Inwood with Alex – she wasn’t going to fare well on the subway in her condition. Then he could take the subway back home himself. He dug into his pocket determine if he had enough cash to get there and back. 

He had to wait for her to finish vomiting before he could hail a cab. There was no way she should be vomiting from just one drink. Bobby felt the return of anger burning in the pit of his stomach. This verified it in his mind – Reece had done something to her. 

“Come on,” Bobby said, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“My dad is going to kill me,” she repeated. She swiped a hand over watering eyes. She had been repeating the same thing over and over – apparently this was the only thing she was able to concentrate on. “Don’t make me go home,” she said to Bobby. “Please. He’s going to be so pissed.”

Bobby took a breath to explain that he had to take her home when he stopped suddenly. Alex’s father was certainly going to be furious. And Alex couldn’t even stand up properly without him here, meaning he’d have to walk her up to her front door. Where her angry father would almost certainly be watching for her. And he, Bobby, would be walking a cop’s clearly intoxicated underage daughter back home. He would probably think that Bobby was the one to do this to her! 

Bobby’s mind was flooded with the image of a tent flap flying open, a furious man reaching in to yank him out by the shirt collar. Bobby shuddered thinking of the man’s reaction if he saw him tonight. But he could hardly dump Alex out of the cab and hope for the best. Bobby rubbed a hand over his face, uncertain. What if Alex’s father recognized him? It wouldn’t be hard for a cop to look up the former next door neighbors… And worse, what if Alex really didn’t remember what happened tonight? What if her father told her that it was Bobby who had slipped something into her drink? What if she believed him?

He couldn’t risk it. “How about you come to my place?” Bobby suggested. “Sleep it off for a couple of hours and then I’ll take you home?” When she could actually walk by herself. 

Alex smiled. “Okay,” she agreed. 

Bobby hailed a cab and gave his address. This was a bad idea. And he knew it. He should just take her back home, regardless of the consequences. He was being selfish. But she didn’t want to go home either, he reasoned. It wouldn’t really be fair to send her back to her father’s wrath when her mind wasn’t running at full capacity. He was making excuses, and he knew it. But still, even though his conscience was plagued with guilt, he didn’t change his mind.


	23. Consequencs

Bobby had settled Alex into the bed in Frank’s room, since his brother hadn’t been around for many months now and it was closer to the door than his mother’s room. She had passed right out shortly after they got back. 

Bobby settled himself on the floor next to the bed, taking his time looking her over. She really didn’t look like he remembered at all. It wasn’t just the curled hair or the outfit, although those certainly contributed to her unfamiliarity. More than that was the makeup she was wearing. It was smeared on so thickly, he thought she must certainly have even looked completely different to her friends who were at the club with her. Bobby had to fight the urge to wash it off. A wet washcloth would probably wake her up, and it was better to let her keep sleeping. In any case, he might only succeed in smearing it all over the place. He was actually surprised he had even recognized her at all. He was fairly certain that if he hadn’t been thinking about her, he would have looked right past her without recognition. In fact, if she hadn’t recognized him, he might have thought he’d made a mistake. 

There was something else too… Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But she was most certainly different. The only reason he had been so sure it was her was her smile. Now that she was asleep, the familiar expressions he had known so well from their childhood were smoothed out, leaving her face blank. The lack of familiarity and the make-up gave the impression of an imposter. This wasn’t his Alex. And yet, it must be. 

Bobby tucked the blankets a bit tighter around her, unsure of what to do now. He reached over to grab his backpack, thinking he might try to work ahead on his homework. He didn’t dare fall asleep in case she woke and was unsure of where she was. He would take her home first thing in the morning. 

 

Bobby startled at the sound of a loud rapping on his front door. He hadn’t actually been asleep, but he had been dozing a bit. It was about eight o’clock now. He rushed to the front door, casting a glance at Alex on his way. She appeared to still be sleeping. 

He yanked the door open and was startled to see two uniformed officers standing there. “Yes?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Were you the one that called in a burglary?”

“No,” Bobby replied, confused. 

“Call came from this apartment, 4D.”

“This is 5D,” Bobby replied. 

Once the confusion was cleared up, Bobby stumbled over to the kitchen, thinking he’d need some coffee to wake up properly. He must certainly have been tired, because he didn’t even hear the footsteps leading from his bedroom.

 

Alex blinked her eyes open; unsure of what had woken her. A much bigger problem became apparent as soon as she looked around. She had no idea where she was. She scanned her memory, trying to remember what had led her to this unknown room. There was nothing. A few fuzzy and indistinct images flashed through her mind, but that was it. Panicking, she searched further back, past the blank space in her memory. How on earth had she managed to black out? How much had she had to drink? She hadn’t meant to drink much at all. She wouldn’t have had anything if Reece hadn’t been so insistent…

That was the last thing she could remember. Being at the club, talking to Reece, taking small sips of the drink he had gotten her. Her drink… could he have done something to it? “No,” Alex said out loud, a hoarse whisper. Her father had warned her to never leave a drink unattended. She had just rolled her eyes and scoffed, but still, after she returned from the bathroom she hadn’t touched her drink again. 

_But he got it for me,_ she realized. She should never have taken it. No wonder he had been so insistent. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ she thought furiously. She suspected he might be holding out a hope of getting her drunk, but she had never guessed that he had other plans… She had thought she was being so careful, so in control. But she had never expected Reece to force her. He certainly wasn’t a gentleman, but she would never have predicted this. Tears of fury and humiliation pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them back. 

She threw the blanket off and saw that she was still wearing her clothes from the night before. That was a good sign, right? Reece wouldn’t have bothered to help her dress herself again last night… Unless she had done it herself. Alex tried to force herself to remember, but her mind remained stubbornly blank. 

Maybe she had gone home with one of her friends. There were a few of them whose house she hadn’t been to before, maybe one of them had let her crash at their place? The fact that she was dressed gave her hope, which she clung to as she struggled to her feet, ignoring her pounding head and an accompanying wave of nausea. 

She walked out, hand tracing along the wall to steady herself, swallowing hard. The nausea was nearly overwhelming, and her head pounded even worse now that she was upright. Alex had entered a small living area. She frowned as she caught sight of the couch against the wall. It looked familiar, somehow. A dawning comprehension hit her and she had to swallow hard again to keep from vomiting. She looked towards the wall with the only framed photograph on it; the wall she had once been pushed against before. 

The faces of the two young boys in the photograph blurred as tears filled her eyes. She hadn’t gone home with friends last night. She hadn’t even gone home with Reece. It was even worse than that. She had gone home with Frank. It was his bed she had woken up in, she was sure. Of all the clubs in the city she could have gone to, she ended up at one that Frank frequented. 

Images from three years ago filled her mind. The smell of him came back, the feeling of his hands on her, restraining her. She could almost taste him again. A small sob caught in her throat, and she turned towards the door, as though she were trapped in a recurrent nightmare. 

“Alex?”

Bobby had been crouched down behind the counter, digging through a cupboard. At Alex’s muffled cry, he had stood up, but she was already running for the door. Had she turned around, she would have seen that it wasn’t Frank who called after her. But she didn’t turn. The voice that called to her was unfamiliar. It had been years since she had seen Frank and Bobby, but she still would have known who it was standing in the kitchen, had she looked. But it never occurred to her that she would no longer recognize Bobby’s voice. A man’s voice called her back – not the boy from her memory. 

The door was flung open, the girl running out. “Alex!” Bobby called again. “Wait!” But she didn’t wait. Bobby leaned out the doorway in time to see her rush out the doorway to the stairwell. He could only see her face in periphery – but it was clear that she was crying. 

Bobby pulled back into his apartment, closing the door. Seeing her tears twisted his insides with knives. He had made her cry. And in that moment, it became abundantly clear what it was that had been so lacking in this Alex that he remembered from his best friend. Alex had lost her sparkle. Just like in the story he had written for his English class, something about her had faded. 

Bobby sunk to the ground, the image of her running away from him replaying itself in his mind. He had always feared her rejection, but this reality was so much worse. She hadn’t even turned when he called her name. She couldn’t wait to get away from him. She didn’t just reject him – she had fled from him. She must hate him. And worse than her running from him, she had been crying. He had made her cry. She hated him so much she had fled his presence in tears. 

Bobby buried his face in his hands, feeling his own eyes threaten tears. She hated him. Bobby stood up and flung everything off of his counter with a load crash. Alex hated him. He picked up a mug from the sink and threw it against the wall, where it shattered. Broken pieces showered down to the ground. He had made her cry. He ran to the table, grabbed the underside, and flipped it. She had run away from him. Pulling his fist back, he concentrated all his jumbled and hurt feelings into the motion, and put his hand through the wall. He turned back to the kitchen, feeling the need to release. Hurt, anger, guilt, remorse, and an overwhelming sadness filled him, begging for an outlet. He hit the refrigerator over and over, its strong metal surface resisting his fists as the wall had been unable to. 

He kept hitting past the point where he could see the object through the haze of emotion. He kept punching long after the knuckles of both hands were torn open and bloody. He continued to fling his fists at the cold metal until he could no longer feel them, until his arm muscles grew weak, his breath coming in short bursts. He poured himself into the motion, pushing himself, trying to reach the point of oblivion – although this wasn’t a conscious effort. He struggled to keep going, his mind as unyielding as the object holding strong against his ruined knuckles. His best friend hated him. The girl he loved had fled his presence in tears. 

He pushed himself so hard, he didn’t even realize that he had just allowed his thoughts to go to a place he had tried to ignore. A conclusion he had tried to escape through logical reason. At some point, the happy little girl who had offered friendship to a lonely boy had become the young woman he loved. It mattered little that he hadn’t seen her in years; that his only communication to her was through letters. He cared for her more than he could have imagined, more than he reasonably should. 

It was hard to break through Bobby’s defences. Despite mutual attraction and time spent together, Maisie had been unable to. But Alex had captured his heart long ago. His hard-won affection ran deep, unbroken by distance, denial, or even rejection. But it made her tear-filled departure nearly more than he could take. 

When his body could stand for no more, he finally halted his relentless pounding and sunk to the ground. Alex hated him. And why shouldn’t she? His father had abandoned him without a second thought, he couldn’t care for his mother, he had been unable to help his brother, and he hadn’t been able to lower his defences enough to fall in love with Maisie… Alex and Lewis were really his only friends. Alex… why shouldn’t she hate him? He hated himself.

 

Alex felt as though everyone was staring at her as she walked down the sidewalk as quickly as she could. In truth, so many people did the walk of shame in the city each morning that her clubbing outfit didn’t turn any heads. Not to mention people in New York tended to not look at each other as they made their way to wherever they were heading anyway. 

Alex went over to the nearest payphone, picking it up to call her friend. She wanted to fill in the details as best she could, as fast as she could. 

“Hello?”

“Melanie?”

“Alex, thank God!” her friend exclaimed. “When you didn’t make it back last night we were so worried! I’m so sorry Alex; I don’t know how we ended up leaving without you! Kenzie and Alyssa were both really sick, and we thought Kenzie was going to pass out so we had to go, and we tried to find you but we couldn’t and Alyssa said you’d probably left, and I was so drunk I wasn’t even thinking clearly so I just went along but I should never have left without finding you!” Melanie wailed, all in one increasingly hysterical breath. “And you didn’t even want to go, and then we just left you and I am so sorry! Oh, Alex, I’m so sorry!” 

“It’s okay Melanie, calm down,” Alex replied, cutting off her friend’s hysterical sobbing. There was a muffled voice saying something, and then Alex heard Melanie say: Yes, it’s Alex. Okay. 

“Alex?” Melanie said questioningly. “Your parents are really worried. They called here looking for you, and I didn’t know what to tell them.”

“What did you say?” Alex asked nervously.

“That we went out last night but I didn’t know where you were. I was so scared when they said you hadn’t come home! None of us knew what had happened to you! Where _did_ you go?”

“I… I don’t know,” Alex replied. “I can’t remember what happened last night. I was hoping you could tell me.”

“You blacked out?” Melanie asked. “But you were the most sober out of all of us! Must be because you’re so tiny, that makes alcohol so much more powerful-”

“Melanie,” Alex cut her off, rubbing her forehead with two fingers and swallowing against another wave of nausea. “When was the last time you remember seeing me last night? Who was I with?”

“Oh geez, I don’t know, the whole night is kind of a blur…”

“Think,” Alex instructed none too kindly. 

“Well, okay,” Melanie agreed. “Let me think… I remember seeing you with Reece… you spent a lot of time with him last night. Probably most of the night. Hmm, yeah I think that’s who you were with.”

“The whole time?” Alex asked. 

“Oh wait,” Melanie said. “I remember seeing you talking to this really tall guy. Reece went over, but the other guy chased him away.”

“Then what?” Alex asked. The tall guy must have been Frank. If she had really analyzed the situation, she might have realized that Frank was not excessively tall. But at twelve years old, cowering in fear, he had seemed like a giant. 

“I don’t know,” Melanie replied, her voice taking on a hysterical edge again. “I thought I was going to puke, so I went back to the bathroom and when I came out you were gone! Oh, Alex, did that guy do something to you? I’ll never forgive myself if he hurt you!” Melanie dissolved into sobs again. 

“It’s not your fault,” Alex said flatly. She felt as though she should try and reassure her friend, but she couldn’t find the energy to even put any emotion into her voice. “It’s mine. I never should have trusted Reece,” she stated monotonously. 

“Reece?” Melanie sniffled. 

“Never mind,” Alex said, her voice still devoid of any change in pitch. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait!” Melanie exclaimed. “Your parents were really worried. They told me to call them right away if you called me. Your Mom said she’ll come and get you.”

“I’ll find my own way home,” Alex stated flatly. It might give her some time to devise a plan of what on earth she was going to say to them. 

“Your Mom promised she wouldn’t be angry,” Melanie explained. “She swore that she and your dad wouldn’t get you in trouble if you’d just come home. She was so scared. We all were.” Melanie’s voice cracked with strain at the end. 

“I’m coming home. Don’t worry.” She hung up. 

Meanwhile, Alex had boarded the subway, flinching every time the movement jostled someone against her. What had happened last night? She tried for the whole ride to remember, but her mind remained blank. What had she done?


	24. Rage and Shame

Alex still hadn’t come up with anything she could say to her parents when she got home. She pushed the front door open with resignation and limped inside. Her feet were killing her. The night spent in heels had been bad enough, but in her desperation to escape the apartment she had left her shoes behind. She certainly wasn’t going back for them. She didn’t even want to think about all the things she’d stepped in from Brooklyn to home. 

Alex was nearly knocked over by her mother whose tight embrace nearly prevented her from breathing. “Oh, Alexandra, you had me so worried!” Penny sobbed. Alex managed to return her mother’s hug, still feeling strangely numb. It wasn’t until she turned to her father, fearing the worst, that the direness of what had happened hit her. 

She had expected fury, but was met instead with only relief. For the first time, she noticed how he had aged since her childhood. She had seen him face pain and frightening situations with stoic resolve, but now his eyes were filled only with tears. A dry sob ripped itself from the throat of the courageous man as he reached for his daughter. Alex collapsed into her father’s arms, sobbing. 

“You were right Daddy,” she cried into his chest. “You were right about him; you were right about everything.”

“Shh,” he whispered, stroking her hair. He had been imagining all sorts of horrors ever since he’d learned that his daughter hadn’t made it home with her friends the night before. “It’s okay now, baby girl,” he said, tightening his grip. 

“I’m sorry Daddy,” she wailed, feeling like a little girl again, wrapped in her father’s embrace. 

“It’s okay,” he repeated. “It’s okay honey.”

 

John Eames rounded a corner, looking for the slightly sheltered area where high school kids would sometimes hang out on the weekend. He had suspected that he might find Reece there – and he was going to teach him a lesson. 

Just thinking about the little bastard who had gone after his little girl filled him with rage. Reece wasn’t among those who were in the sheltered area, so he spun around again, still searching. If he wasn’t here, John was heading straight for the precinct to look up his home address. 

As he walked past an alleyway, he heard muffled sounds of pain. He turned down the alleyway, fists ready. Then he blinked in surprise. He had found Reece. But someone else had literally beaten him to the punch. 

It hadn’t been hard for Bobby to find him. He knew what school Alex went to. If he hadn’t found Reece on this particular day, he would have cut class to go on a school day to follow him from the building. No matter what Alex thought of him, or how much he blamed himself for somehow hurting her, he still blamed Reece for putting her in such a vulnerable position. There was no doubt in his mind what Reece would have done if he hadn’t been there. And no matter how much pain he was in from his best friend’s stinging rejection, one thing stuck out clearly in his mind, one thing he knew for sure. No one hurt Alex. 

His already ruined knuckles rained blows down on the other boy over and over. Bobby relished the exhaustion; felt he deserved the few punches Reece managed to return in an attempt at defence. “Never!” Bobby yelled, “Go… near… her… again!” He punctuated each word with a blow. Reece wasn’t even trying to fight back anymore; he just kept trying to fend the blows with his arms. 

For a moment, John watched the scene in a state of shock, and then he rushed forward and grabbed the hulking boy by the shoulders, trying to pull him back. Bobby was blind with rage, still trying to land blows on the cowering figure beneath him. “Stop!” John yelled, unable to stop the attack of the over six foot tall muscular teen. “He’s down!” John called, trying to get a better grip on the boy. Bobby let out a yell with no distinct words but clearly demonstrated rage. 

“Stop it! You’re going to kill him!” Finally he managed to shove Bobby away. He stumbled a few feet away, chest heaving. John grabbed the quivering boy on the ground by the shirt, pulling him up to his feet. 

Reece mumbled something, not all his words discernible, but John gathered enough. “You’re fine,” the cop snarled in response. “You tell anyone about this guy beating you up and I will arrest you and bury you so deep you’ll never get out. Yeah,” he said in response to Reece’s startled look, “I’m Alex’s father. You’ve messed with the wrong girl,” he snarled. 

“She wanted to be with me,” Reece said haughtily. 

John shoved the kid into the wall, then turned to stop the other kid from descending on Reece with more crushing blows. “Stop!” he commanded. His eyes blazed with anger, in just the way Alex’s did when she was furious. He was an animal defending his young; he was a father who loved his daughter. Bobby backed off. 

“You ever so much as look at her again,” John said, pinning Reece against the wall with his face an inch away, “and I’ll finished what he started.” He nodded in Bobby’s direction. “And trust me when I say you won’t like the ending.” One blow, straight to the gut with a well-aimed fist. Then John shoved him away. 

Struggling to inhale after the blow to the diaphragm, Reece stumbled away. John turned back to look at the other boy. Still a teenager, John decided, but with the size and strength of a man. And the boy looked to be weighted down with grief, as though he had already lived through a lifetime. The rage was fading from the boy’s eyes, leaving only a profound sadness. 

“Who are you?” John asked. 

Bobby struggled to think of a response. He couldn’t really explain who he was. John would want to know how he had known about Reece if he hadn’t been to Inwood in years, which would require admitting that he had been the one to keep Alex away from home. 

John watched the display of uncertainty, fear, and guilt pass across the boy’s face. How had such an innocent question gained such a response?

“I… I’m Melanie’s brother,” Bobby lied. He had searched his memory for the name of Alex’s friend, praying that John didn’t know the family very well. When the suspicion on John’s face didn’t become any worse, and there was no hint of doubt on his face, Bobby added, “She told me what happened. The little creep shouldn’t get away with something like that. It could just as easily have been Melanie who…” Bobby let his sentence trail off. 

John nodded. “I understand,” he replied fervently. “But you need to learn where to draw the line. How far would you have gone if I hadn’t gotten here?” Bobby shook his head helplessly. He didn’t know. “You could have done some serious damage, kid,” John cautioned. “But you saved me the trouble,” he added in a lighter tone. Bobby didn’t smile. 

“Is Alex okay?” Bobby asked, unable to help himself. 

“She’s a tough kid,” John responded, not wanting to reveal too much to a stranger. “Always has been. She’ll be fine.”

Bobby wanted to press him for details, knowing this guarded response didn’t tell the full story. But what right did he have to do that? 

“Jesus!” John exclaimed suddenly. “Was that kid’s face made of steel or what?”

Bobby looked down and saw that there was blood dripping down from his knuckles. John went over to look at them closer. “They might be broken,” he said. “Let me give you a lift to the hospital, kid.”

“No thanks,” Bobby replied. “I’m just going to head home.”

“You really should have your hands looked at.”

“Thanks,” Bobby repeated, “But I’ll be fine.” He turned and walked away, going back to the subway. 

 

Alex turned the water hotter, until it was scalding hot. She stuck her face beneath the shower head, her skin turning red under the steaming heat. Memories from three years ago, pushed to the back of her mind and, she thought, forgotten, were brought forward. She seriously doubted that Frank would have bothered to get her dressed again, but she was unsure of if she would have done it herself. 

Maybe he’d needed to go somewhere. Maybe she had passed out, and he had enough of a conscience to not take a girl who wasn’t even awake. She didn’t know. Her mind was still stubbornly blank. Tears of humiliation burned her eyes. She wasn’t even sure if they fell, mixing with the water and remnants of last night’s makeup. 

Alex stood under the water, not moving, simply allowing it to wash the previous night away. She didn’t know what had happened the night before, and she supposed there was no way to find out. She would never know for sure. 

 

“Mom,” Alex said, trying to force a change of pitch into her voice. Penny looked over, worry creasing her forehead still. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home last night.”

Penny went over to where her daughter was sitting at the table and put her arms around her. “It’s okay honey.”

“I was upset about Reece, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. But I should have at least called you from Kenzie’s place.”

“You were at Kenzie’s?” Penny asked tremulously, hardly daring to hope. 

Alex stood up, so her back was facing her mother. “Sure I was.”

“We called all of your friends Alex.”

“But there was no answer at Kenzie’s, because her parents are away for the weekend,” Alex explained. “We didn’t answer because we were sleeping pretty soundly.”

It was a lie, a complete fabrication. But she didn’t want her parents to know. She didn’t want them to worry. It would be best to just put it all behind her. 

 

“Alex,” John said a few days later. “I don’t want you to worry about Reece anymore.” He had debated whether or not he should tell her about the encounter. He wanted her to know that the boy wouldn’t be bothering her anymore, but wasn’t sure he wanted to admit what he had done. Before, Alex would have thrown a fit at the idea of her father threatening one of her classmates. 

“Okay,” Alex replied tonelessly from where she was doing homework at the kitchen table. 

“I gave him a talking to he won’t ever forget,” John added, worried about his daughter’s lack of response. 

“Okay,” she repeated. John had heard her version of the night’s events from Penny, and the two had accepted it simply because it would be a relief for that to be the truth. 

“Although your friend’s brother busted up his hands with a non-verbal lesson of the sort,” John added thoughtfully. “Do you know if he’s okay? He didn’t want a lift to the hospital, but his hands were banged up pretty good.”

“Who?” Alex asked, looking up for the first time. 

“Melanie’s brother,” John replied. “He was giving that punk a beat down when I got there.”

“Melanie doesn’t have a brother,” Alex said listlessly, dropping her gaze back to the table. 

“Maybe it was a different friend…” John muttered to himself, though he was sure the boy had said Melanie. 

“Kenzie only has sisters, and Alyssa has two younger brothers,” Alex said. 

“No, he was older,” John said. “If he wasn’t Melanie’s brother; who was he?”

Alex shrugged, her curiosity piqued, but not enough for her to think about it too much. It wasn’t until later that night that Alex was lying in bed thinking about the conversation again. Suddenly she sat up so fast she was dizzy. 

The only people who would have any idea what had happened the previous night were her and her friends, Reece, and the person she had left the club with. The boy who had been hitting Reece would have to have known about what had happened and been offended enough to find the boy and beat him up. Alex had thought she must have left the club with Frank, but Frank wouldn’t have cared about Reece. But she knew who would. 

“Oh no,” she said out loud. It was Bobby who had found her at the club, Bobby who had taken her to his place, Bobby who had given her a place to rest until she had recovered enough to go home, and Bobby who she had run from that morning. He was seventeen now, hardly a boy anymore. It was his voice that had called after her when she left. She should have known. The voice was different, lower now, but the anguish in his call as he begged her to wait, that should have been familiar. Hadn’t she heard it before?

Alex threw the covers off and leapt out of her bed, not really sure what she was doing. She was caught between two warring emotions – relief that it hadn’t been Frank who she’d gone home with and guilt that she had run from Bobby. “I didn’t know,” she said out loud, as though he could hear her. This was by far the worst misunderstanding that had come between her and Bobby. 

She flopped back down on her bed face down, indecision gnawing at her. She would have to explain… but that would require revealing everything. How could she tell him after all this time? But how could she explain away the incident without revealing everything? She was awake for a long time trying to decide.


	25. Broken Hearted

Bobby was walking to the shop with Lewis, his mind still in turmoil. His friend had been unable to get him to open up about that night. Lewis just watched him with concern. Bobby had always been quiet and serious, but something was seriously wrong now, Lewis was sure. Bobby had refused to comment when Lewis asked about his torn knuckles, making him wonder what on earth could possibly have brought such a violent reaction from his gentle friend. 

The one thing that Bobby had learned from his encounter with Reece was that he needed to get a handle on his emotions. Never again could he allow himself to get that out of hand. There were few men who could take on his size and strength. Bobby could not respond to anger with violence ever again. The words Alex’s father had shouted haunted him. _You’re going to kill him! … How far would you have gone if I hadn’t gotten here?_

The truth was, Bobby didn’t know how far he would have gone. Until Reece was unconscious? Or worse? He was lucky Alex’s father hadn’t arrested him. But that wasn’t what worried him. Not knowing where he would have drawn the line, or if he’d even been able to, scared him. Bobby vowed that from now on, he would use his words, only his words, no matter how enraged he felt. There were times when fists needed to be used in defense, but Bobby knew that he had fought because he was angry. Never again. 

And then there was the matter of Alex. He was sure he would never get another letter from her again. He wanted to beg her to forgive him for whatever terrible misdeed he had committed, but he knew he couldn’t force her to read a letter from him, nor could he bring himself to face her again. 

He still didn’t even know what he wanted to do. Maybe he wouldn’t go to college. He couldn’t afford to. Maybe he would just try and pick up another job, or more hours. The only problem with that was that Bobby now had the incredible urge to run away. He needed to escape the city, escape his past, and start over. But how could he?

He suddenly stopped short. Lewis paused a few steps ahead, looking back at his friend. “Bobby?” he asked. 

But Bobby’s attention was captured by the poster in the window of the building. It was a recruitment office. Bobby’s mind spun, bringing back vague childhood memories of wanting to be a police officer. The army wasn’t the NYPD, but being a cop would remind him too much of his childhood days with Alex. He wanted to move forward, not dwell on the past. 

Another thought struck him as he stood outside the building. He had heard that the army would sometimes pay for college. He would owe them a certain amount of time after that, but that was no problem. He had no firm ties here anyway. He could fund his mother’s care from overseas if he had to. It was such a perfect solution he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. He made a mental note to stop by the office when he had more time, then continued on his way. 

Lewis had watched Bobby examine the posters with the first spark of life in his eyes that Lewis had seen in days. If joining the army gave his friend purpose, than Lewis was more than happy to encourage him, though he would miss his companionship if he went far away. 

Only one thing held Bobby back from feeling excitement. Leaving would mean admitting that he would never see Alex again. And as much as he thought it to be true, confirming it by making plans to leave was still painful. 

 

Alex sat on her bed with her knees drawn up, hugging her legs. She still wasn’t sure what she could possibly tell Bobby. It had been weeks since the incident, and she still hadn’t received a letter from him. Not that she really expected to. She knew she needed to tell him something, and had started writing several times but had been unable to finish. 

She got up and crouched by her bed, reaching under to pull out the shoebox filled with letters from Bobby that she kept there. She began absentmindedly sorting through them when she came across the short story. 

Alex leaned back, reading it again. At the time, she had read the beginning, and thought that the two main characters had vaguely resembled the two of them. Then she had kept reading about how Luther had lost the one he loved and wondered if Bobby was using the story as a way to release his pain about the breakup with Maisie. She wondered if he had incorporated different amounts of his life into it. She had been so caught up in her own life at the time… with Jeremy and her friends. She had dismissed the very idea that he hadn’t been writing about Maisie at all. 

Had she suspected as much then? She tried to remember. There was the unsettling feeling that the story was based on his life, but she had brushed it aside, her only indication being that she wanted Luther to have a happy ending. She felt that Bobby deserved one too. 

_Dear Bobby,_

_I don’t know if you’re even reading this. I wish there was a way that I could explain. Where did the time go? I can remember so clearly all the time we spent together as little kids. But everything is so different now. I’m sure you’ve changed now; I know I have. But I’m writing you now in hopes that you can forgive me._

_Let me tell you a story…_

_**Broken Hearted** _

_The day that the boy left was the saddest day the girl could ever remember. She had watched him disappear from her life with tears in her eyes, heartbroken. Though they found a way to communicate, it was never the same. At her twelfth year, the girl couldn’t wait any longer. She set out to find her missing friend._

_The boy had warned her to stay away. But the girl didn’t listen. Filled with confidence, she set out anyway. The boy prepared to meet her, but in an effort to surprise him, she set out before their predetermined time._

_When she reached the meeting place, she found not her friend, but Luther’s mortal brother. She should have left. But she had never had a reason to fear before. Perhaps she was too trusting, too confident. Though she was uncertain, she willingly followed._

_Just as Luther had, the demon of temptation still clinging to the brother saw the potential in the girl. But since she was not an angel, she was unable to see the demon hiding in the shadows. Her naivety made her vulnerable. The demon, seeing this weakness, began to cloud the mortal brother’s judgement. What temptation could be greater than to spoil a potential angel? The girl fled in fear, before he could hurt her, and before she got to see her friend again._

_But now, what to tell her friend? She thought perhaps ignorance is bliss. After all, even though she did not fully understand how the demon manipulated the brother, she did know that he was not completely in control. How could she hurt Luther again? Her friend had already suffered so much; not the least of which was the guilt for all the terrible things that had happened to him and those around him. Did he not realize that the fault was not his? Didn’t he see that evil acted without his consent? Didn’t he know the devil intended this outcome before he was ever made mortal?_

_But perhaps she should have said something. Because later she met her friend again, but now she was the one whose judgement was clouded. The girl’s mind was shielded, so she did not recognize her friend. When she saw the old meeting place again years later, she feared that it was the brother who was there and ran away again._

_The devil had been watching the girl, not to harm her, but to see the harm already done. But Luther, seeing her reaction and catching sight of the devil hiding in the shadows, misinterpreted the events. It wasn’t until later that the girl found out what had become of her friend._

_Crippled with grief and sorrow, the girl was determined to help her friend. It had been revealed to her that he was the demon of heartbreak, and she had best stay away. “Oh Luther,” she said out loud. “Don’t you see that the only way you cause me heartbreak is by staying away? It breaks my heart only to know you’re in pain.”_

_She was so determined to find a way to save her friend that she would break in to hell herself to find him. Demon or not, it didn’t matter to her. Luther was Luther to her; her best friend. He was the one who had indulged her in all the childhood games she had wanted to play, the one who shared bright summer days with her, the one who developed special light signals to talk even at night. She doubted in the validity of his being a demon anyway. He had not ever been evil. He only took the blame for evil things that happened._

_First, the girl needed to explain to explain to Luther what had happened. But what if he didn’t want her anymore?_

Writing didn’t come as easily to Alex as it did to Bobby. She did her best to follow the design he had in his story, stopping and starting again, editing, re-phrasing. She broke off after putting into writing the outcome she feared. It stopped abruptly, incomplete. But then again, the story was incomplete. It depended on what Bobby did with this information. 

Alex sealed the letter and sat in her room, staring into space. All she had to do was send it. Assuming, of course, that she could find the courage to do so.

 

For the first time in his life, Bobby was anticipating change. He had petitioned for early graduation, and had managed to be permitted to write his exams early. The school could mail him his diploma. He had no interest in walking across the stage with his classmates. For a student who had been barley passing the first half of his junior year, Bobby’s grades in his senior year were phenomenal. 

And then Bobby would be leaving. Leaving the city, leaving the state. He was starting at college during the summer semester, eager to get away. He only had to wait another two weeks, and then he’d be leaving everything behind. Bobby began flipping through his mail, muttering to himself. “Bills… junk…junk…” he broke off suddenly. He knew the handwriting on the front of the envelope well. He never imagined he would get another letter from Alex again. 

Bobby dropped the rest of the mail onto the table. With shaking hands, he opened the envelope. What would Alex have to say to him? 

He hardly breathed as he read the first paragraph of her letter. He detected no anger in it. If anything, the paragraph sounded sad. His heart hammered as he continued to read: _Let me tell you a story…_


	26. Confidence

Bobby leapt up and began pacing the room anxiously. His mind was racing. If Frank had walked into the apartment at that moment, Bobby thought he might have broken the vow he had just made to himself and beat him to a bloody pulp. How dare his brother hurt Alex the way he had! 

But in his heart, Bobby couldn’t hold Frank completely responsible. Even Alex hadn’t. She had written it in her story – he had been confused, high. Bobby remembered their conversation that day. He had though Alex was her sister. It didn’t make it right, but his brother never meant to cause the hurt he did. 

And of course, Bobby blamed himself. How could he have put Alex in danger? He should have been there to protect her. He should have realized that something was seriously wrong when she had lied to him all those years ago. Things could be too shameful or frightening to admit – that’s why she hadn’t told him. They had talked about it many years ago, when they were still children. 

And why hadn’t he told her that Frank no longer lived at his apartment? For the same reason he hadn’t told her that his mother was gone; for the same reason he had lost Maisie’s affection, and for the same reason he and Alex had gotten caught up in misunderstandings before. He was secretive, and he didn’t want to admit what had happened to his family. He told Alex more than anyone else, but not everything. And neither had she. 

But now what to do? He hardly dared to hope that she could forgive him. It sounded as though she wasn’t angry with him, didn’t blame him for what had happened. But how could she not? If he had just taken her home that night, or told her that Frank wasn’t there, or pressed her for more information three years ago… There were so many ways things could have turned out differently. But he had messed it all up, as usual. 

He had never been more furious with himself for allowing this to happen. But he couldn’t change it. He was leaving. He hadn’t thought he would ever see Alex again. But what if she was willing to forgive him? He had allowed fear to stop him before. But he couldn’t let this chance get away from him. He had to do something. 

_Dear Alex,_

_Words cannot express how sorry I am. I can’t believe I allowed this to happen. You are still the best friend I ever had, and I’m so sorry. I hurt you, and I’m certain you must blame me. If it weren’t for me, you would never have been exposed to my brother; I should have known something was wrong all those years ago. It’s time for me to come clean – full honesty is the only thing I can offer._

_Frank told me you were at our place three years ago. I didn’t understand why you were lying to me. I thought you just didn’t want to see me anymore. Alex, I’m not trying to make excuses, but I want you to understand. Frank thought you were your sister. He used to like to go after ex-girlfriends. He didn’t know you were only twelve; girls his own age were normally confident enough to make it clear his advances weren’t welcome. It doesn’t make it right Alex, and I don’t expect you to forgive him; I don’t even know if I can forgive him. But I want you to know why. I want to give you the full story because I owe you that much._

_So yes, I knew you were lying. Why didn’t I confront you? Because I was scared. I was scared of what your reason would be. I was scared of being hurt. I didn’t know that you were the one who was scared and hurt. I should have known, Alex. I can’t tell you how much I wish I’d gotten everything out in the open back then._

_Frank hasn’t been around here for a year. I don’t really know where he is now. But Alex, I would never have let him near you. I understand now what you must have thought. I didn’t know._

_But ignorance is no excuse. I was the one who ran into you at the club, after that boy drugged your drink. I couldn’t leave you there. I was going to take you back to your house, I really was. But then I let my own fear get in the way again. I thought if you came over to my place, you could get rested and cleaned up, and get back to Inwood without me. Because I didn’t want your parents to think that I had been the one to hurt you; I didn’t want you to think that I had been the one who hurt you. It was so stupid, Alex. I wasn’t thinking. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could take it all back._

_There’s one more thing I have to confess. I’m leaving. Less than two weeks from now. I’m going to college out of state. I don’t suppose there’s a chance that I could see you before then? I’m not even certain that you’ll get this letter before I’ll be gone. I’ve enclosed my new address, should you decide to continue writing me. I want to beg for your forgiveness, Alex, but I understand if you can’t._

_I love you,  
Bobby_

 

Alex sat on her bedroom floor, holding Bobby’s letter and crying. He had been her best friend for as long as she could remember too. She couldn’t even remember a time before she knew him anymore. And now he was leaving. 

What had happened between them? She felt terrible about everything that had happened. Typical Bobby – he had taken all the blame on himself. They were both at least equally responsible. 

She picked up her pen, wiping a hand over her eyes as though he would somehow find out that she had been crying. 

_Dear Bobby,_

_How many times do I have to tell you that anything bad that happens isn’t your fault? I don’t blame you Bobby. How could I? Don’t you know that I love you too? Do me a favour Bobby. It’s time for you to start to let go of all the guilt you carry around. Did you ask for your mother to get sick? Did you chase your father away? Did you get Frank hooked on drugs? None of those things were your fault. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s time to let go. Accept that all of those things happened, and move on._

_I know it won’t be easy. It’s become who you are. But I want you to be happy Bobby. I hope that maybe your happiness could include me too, but so many bad things have happened._

_I want to see you Bobby. I know you said you’re leaving now. But you’ll get breaks, right? It’s been so long that I don’t even know what you look like anymore. I still miss you._

_Love,  
Alex_

 

Reading her letter, Bobby could scarcely believe what he was reading. How could she not blame him? He sat in the new unfamiliar room, gazing around. For the first time in a long time, he felt free. His mother was taken care of, he had let go of his brother for the time being, and Alex had forgiven him. 

He began writing a letter to Lewis first, since that wouldn’t take as much time and energy. He would miss Lewis while he was away. And he would miss his grandfather too. A smile crept onto his face as he thought of his goodbye to his grandpa. The man had gotten choked up when he said goodbye, though he had just gotten gruffer to cover it up. He had said that he was proud of his grandson. Bobby had been moved beyond words. He knew what his grandfather said was true, since he had bragged to anyone who would listen that his grandson was going to college and joining the army. No one in his family had ever said they were proud of Bobby before. 

After finishing his letter to Lewis, Bobby got out another piece of paper to begin writing out a message to Alex. He was going to take her words to heart. He was somehow going to find a confidence within himself. 

 

Alex waited a long time to get a letter back from Bobby. After three months passed with no word from him, she thought he must have gotten too busy with college and forgotten all about her. She only hoped that he was happy. Perhaps the only way for him to move on was to completely start over, and she supposed she was okay with that. Or at least, she would be. 

Unknown to either of them, the letter had gotten lost in the mail. It had gotten sent to the wrong place, and took many months to get to Alex’s house. By then, she had already stopped waiting for a letter from Bobby, and wasn’t checking the mail anymore. The letter had gotten mixed up with junk mail, and gotten thrown out by one of Alex’s parents by accident. 

Of course, now Alex wasn’t sending another letter to Bobby, who in turn assumed that she had forgotten about him or wasn’t interested in writing anymore, or had been unable to forgive him after all. 

For a while, Bobby found himself floundering. Getting no response from Alex filled him with an undefinable sadness. But, he still had Lewis to write to. And he loved college. Bobby loved everything about it; he loved learning. Before long, he found that he had even managed to make some new friends. He wasn’t sure if this was because he was starting over in a new place, because of the promise he had made Alex, or simply because he was growing up. Perhaps it was a combination of all three. But he had still managed to gain more confidence than he ever had before. 

Over the next months, Alex found herself thinking of Bobby less and less. Every so often something would make her think of him, and she would pull out the box under her bed filled with all of his letters to read them again. She kept the strip of photographs from the carnival in a drawer from her desk, and would still pull them out to look at occasionally. A few months after her last letter to Bobby, Alex had felt a twinge of guilt when Melanie showed her a Polaroid of the two of them. On the back she had written: “Melanie and Alex sophomore year – Best friends”. Alex supposed it was true. Bobby hadn’t been her best friend for a long time. 

Though the two didn’t think of each other nearly as often anymore, they hadn’t forgotten each other yet.


	27. Bittersweet

_(Bobby is nineteen; Alex is seventeen)_

Bobby was going home. He hadn’t originally planned to stop back at Canarsie before defecting to North Korea to begin his tour of duty, but the choice had been taken out of his hands. His grandfather had died. 

Bobby had been contacted after his grandfather had passed away, since he and William Goren were the only people listed as next of kin, and they hadn’t yet found William. Bobby didn’t think it mattered. He wanted to be the one who took care of everything. He was glad they had contacted him. 

His grandfather had been someone in his family who had truly cared for him, and Bobby wanted to make sure he had proper arrangements made, not like his father would likely have done. After the funeral, he would be leaving again. 

 

Alex poked around the back of her closet, trying to find out if there was anything left back there that she had forgotten about. She was so excited about leaving for school in September that she had already started going through her things. The fact that she wasn’t leaving for another couple of months did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm. 

She would be staying in residence her first year, despite the fact that her parents had insisted that she could commute. She had gotten over any bad experience she had had earlier, and was nearly completely back to her former happy self. Not completely, but then, she was growing up after all. Perhaps that was part of it. 

She had decided that she wanted to be in the NYPD after all. Her father couldn’t have been more proud; her mother couldn’t have been more worried. She had a vague memory of adamantly refusing to entertain the idea of becoming a cop like her father, though she couldn’t actually remember who she had been talking to at the time. 

Finding nothing in the back of her closet, Alex flopped down onto the floor to poke around under her bed. Her fingers brushed the edge of a box, and she pulled it out. For a moment, she sat frozen. “Bobby,” she said aloud. She had very nearly forgotten about the letters under her bed. She flung herself over to her desk in a panic, yanking the drawer open and seizing the photographs that were still there. 

This was how she remembered Bobby the best. The fact that he was an adult now meant nothing. The night she had met up with him again was still hazy, and she had no idea what he looked like now. She wondered if he looked completely different. Tall now, she reminded herself. It was odd to think about. He had always been rather small for his age, not that she had really noticed since she was always even smaller. 

She wondered where he was now. But since she had no way of finding out, she pushed the thought away and resumed searching her room. “I won’t need these,” she muttered to herself, shoving the box back under her bed. She fingered the photographs, thoughtful. They wouldn’t take much room. 

 

Bobby had sold the bar and his grandfather’s share of the club. There had been just enough money from that to cover all of his grandpa’s debts, with a little help from the life insurance policy. The policy only covered the bare minimum for the funeral as it was, so Bobby paid out of pocket for the rest, and also a bit more than the policy would have covered. 

Bobby’s mind drifted back to the funeral. He had been the only Goren present. He had been unable to locate Frank or William, although to be honest, he hadn’t tried very hard. He had offered to sign his mother out of Carmel Ridge for the afternoon, but his mother had said that she had no interest in going to the funeral. Well, that was one thing he could appreciate about her. She was almost always to the point. 

He had of course visited his mother as soon as he’d gotten back into town. She had made no indication either way of being pleased to see him or not. He hadn’t really expected her to. 

He had also seen Lewis, and was pleased that they’d gotten along just as well as before he left. His friend hadn’t gone to college, but was instead taking over more duties in his father’s shop. 

At the funeral, Bobby had bid his grandfather goodbye. He hadn’t cried. He never did anymore. He had truly loved his grandfather. 

There was only one thing left that Bobby wanted to do before he left. He wasn’t even sure why he was here. He only knew that he had certainly gained confidence since he’d been at school, or he never would have come. He had been standing in the dark, waiting, for some time. But that didn’t bother him. He would wait as long as it took. 

 

Alex slipped out of the cab and headed towards her house. She turned back to wave to the friends who were still inside on their way home, smiling. As she turned to enter her yard, she caught sight of a figure standing in the shadows. All the horror films she’d ever seen came to mind, with suspicious shadows lurking in the dark. It would figure that someone would be waiting in the only area shrouded in darkness, thanks to a broken streetlight. 

She considered rushing inside and getting her father, but the person wasn’t moving towards her. But they were certainly facing her direction. That’s when she noticed what the man was wearing. The figure was clad in army fatigues. She suddenly knew who he was. 

She considered turning away despite realizing who it was. He had never written her back. Why was he here? But she found herself drawn closer, almost against her will. 

Bobby watched her approach. This wasn’t the little girl from his memory, or the teen from two years ago. She was a beautiful young woman now, which was all he had time to register before she was in front of him, also covered in darkness. 

“Why are you here?” she demanded aggressively. 

“I came back to the city because my grandfather died.”

“Sorry,” she said, her tone slightly softer. “But why did you come _here_?” she asked suspiciously. 

“I wanted to see you.”

“Well, now you have.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. They were both trying to take unobtrusive glances at each other, but both of their faces were still hidden in the shadows. 

“Alex, I’m sorry,” Bobby said suddenly, passionately. 

“For what?” she snapped. “For not writing me back? Don’t worry. I understand; you’ve been busy with your life, moving on, whatever.”

“I did write you back,” Bobby insisted, confused. “I never heard back from you.”

“Wrong!” Alex countered. “I sent a letter to your college.”

“I know,” Bobby agreed. “I replied, but never heard back.”

“I never got that letter.”

The two stood in silence for a time, letting this revelation wash over them. They were both reeling with the knowledge that neither of them intended to break contact. Due to an unfortunate twist of fate, they had both assumed the other had stopped writing. 

“You know, I really did love you,” Alex said, breaking the silence. 

The use of the past tense wasn’t lost on Bobby. “I really loved you too.”

“I guess this changes everything.”

“Does it?” Bobby asked. He was still defecting to North Korea. She was still moving on with her life, starting at college in the fall term. They might as well have been worlds apart. They hadn’t even communicated in two years. A lot had changed. 

“Maybe not,” she replied sadly. 

They stood in silence once more, avoiding eye contact. After a while, it was Alex who broke the silence again. “Are you leaving the state again?” she asked. 

“I’m leaving the country,” Bobby replied. “North Korea.”

“Oh,” was all she said in response. Then, “I guess that makes the prom seem like much less of a big deal.”

Bobby noticed the corsage she was wearing for the first time. And while he had seen that she was wearing a dress, he hadn’t thought much of it, being overwhelmed at the time. Since they were still in the dark, he couldn’t even see what colour it was. 

“You were at the prom tonight,” he stated redundantly. 

“Yes,” she replied. “Dad only gave me fifty bucks, so I had to raise the rest of the money for a dress on my own. But that’s really nothing compared to what you’ve had to do.”

In an effort to change the subject, Bobby asked, “Are you going to college?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t offer any more information than that. “Good luck,” Bobby said. 

“And you,” she replied. 

“I suppose this is goodbye, then,” Bobby said. 

“I suppose it is.”

And for a moment they were children again, eleven and thirteen, being torn apart by circumstances beyond their control. But then the years that had passed since came rushing back. Everything they had felt for each other came over them in that one moment. They didn’t know who moved first, but they were suddenly close, very close. 

And it wasn’t like it was in the movies. He was so much taller than her that she had to go on tiptoe despite her high heels. He had to bend down, but she was so much smaller than he remembered (even though she was actually taller), their size difference was now so much larger than before that he nearly missed. They couldn’t actually see each other properly either, although there was enough light from nearby streetlamps to see their silhouettes. Then there was the awkwardness of not knowing who should turn their head which way, or how to stand… But after a moment of awkwardness, they were wrapped in an embrace. All of what they felt for each other was translated into these few short seconds of passion. 

Then they just as quickly broke apart, leaping back as though they had committed some offense, hearts racing. “I have to go in,” Alex said quickly. “My parents are probably waiting.”

“Right,” Bobby agreed. “I have to go too.”

“Goodbye, Bobby.”

“Goodbye, Alex.”

Then she had turned away and scurried back towards her house, and Bobby had also turned and begun walking towards the subway, his long strides putting distance between them quickly. 

When either of them thought back, the encounter had an almost dreamlike quality. Bobby had been in the shadows the entire time, so Alex had never gotten a proper look at him. When she tried to visualize what he had looked like later, the only image that came to mind was his sad little face watching her from the back of a car window, six years previously. 

Bobby had only gotten a glimpse of her before she had also entered the shadows. But her startlingly different appearance had managed to distract him again, and he found that when he thought of her he couldn’t hold the image long enough to really know what she looked like before it was gone. An image of a curl of blonde hair, the colour of lipstick, the corsage on her wrist… but not the whole picture. When he tried to picture her properly, he saw the laughing little girl from the carnival pictures he had looked at hundreds of times over the years. 

Even when he tried to think of what she looked like the night he had run into her at the club, he couldn’t remember. Perhaps because she had looked even more remarkably different that night or perhaps because of the pain associated with that night, he had completely erased it from his memory. He had thought that the image of her crying would be imprinted on his mind forever, but when he thought of that, he saw a nine-year-old clutching a broken wrist. 

It was Alex as a child that he could visualize the best. If he forced his memory back almost as far as he could remember, he still saw Alex sitting in her back yard grinning with a couple of race car toys in front of her. He saw her at five, with a picture book in the library. He saw her at six, reaching for the stars. He saw her at eight, running through crowds of people at the carnival. He saw her at ten, shining a flashlight in a tent. He saw her at eleven, saying goodbye. And after that, her face was always shadowed. 

It seemed they were meant to be nothing more than childhood friends. 

 

A few months after Alex’s last encounter with Bobby, she had arrived at college. She slipped into a seat in the lecture hall, glancing around before reaching into her shoulder bag for her notebook and pen. 

When she looked up again, a guy had slid into the seat next to her. He flashed her a smile, which she returned briefly before turning her attention to the room at large. When she looked to her left again, she saw that he was still looking at her, smiling wider as she made eye contact. 

“What is it?” she asked. 

“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am,” he replied.

“Why?”

He leaned forward, his smile taking on a slightly mischievous look as he answered, “Because I managed to find a free seat next to the most beautiful girl in the room.”

Alex snorted and rolled her eyes. “Does that line ever actually work for you?” she asked. 

He leaned back in his seat, laughing openly. His laughter prompted a smile from her in return. He had a nice, easy smile. He had a friendly manner, and it was clear even from the brief moments she’s spoken to him that he laughed often. He sat leaning towards her again once he’d finished laughing, eyes dancing with delight at making her smile. “I’m Joe,” he said. 

A memory flashed through Alex’s mind from years earlier, playing a game of not telling a boy her name – of making him guess. It was back in the far reaches of her memory. She hadn’t even realised she still remembered meeting Bobby for the first time, and probably wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been triggered now. But everything had changed now. And so had she. 

“Alex,” she replied.

 

Bobby laid on his bed, lost in thought. He didn’t know what it was that had made him think of Alex. He knew for sure that he wouldn’t be keeping in contact with her. It was impossible – he hadn’t left her an address, and he didn’t even know what college she was attending. He didn’t even know what she was going to college for!

He rolled over onto his side, his mind occupied with the memory of meeting her for the first time. She had been playing with race car toys in her backyard. He remembered that as a child she had wanted to drive race cars one day. He wondered if he might someday see her on the television, a star driver for NASCAR. He smiled, although the thought was both bitter and sweet.


	28. Epilogue

_(Major Case Squad)_

“We’ve got another new partner for you coming in tomorrow, Goren,” Deakins told him. 

The use of the word another was stressed slightly. Bobby nodded, knowing that his captain was probably getting frustrated with looking for new detectives to come in and replace the ones that left. It hadn’t been that many, really. And he didn’t think the first one should count. He had left for reasons not to do with trying to work with an unconventional detective. 

But Bobby at least took comfort in the fact that his case closure rate spoke for itself, and the captain hadn’t kicked him out of the unit. This must mean that his skills were appreciated at least. 

“Your new partner’s name is Alex Eames,” Deakins informed him. “Eames will be the senior partner.”

Bobby nodded again. This was no surprise either. He was new to the Major Case Squad, and compared to many of the other detectives in the unit, he was even pretty new to the NYPD. He had been in the army first, which had resulted in younger detectives being the senior in his partnership with them. He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it, since they didn’t either look to Bobby to lead or try and get into a pissing contest. This allowed him even more freedom to practice his unconventional ways. 

“What unit is Eames transferring in from?” Bobby asked. 

“Vice,” Deakins replied. “The captain gave a glowing recommendation. I hope it will work out between the two of you.”

“I hope so too,” Bobby replied sincerely. He was quite ready to finish playing musical partners. 

Deakins went back to his office, leaving Bobby lost in thought. He’d never been partnered with a woman before. Then he realized that Deakins hadn’t actually said that his new partner was a woman. Alex was just as easily a male name as female. But as with many uni-sex names, the gender one associated with the name tends to be the gender of the first person you meet with that name. And Alex to him would always be the little girl from his childhood. 

 

Bobby wandered into the captain’s office with a certain apprehension. He was about to meet his new partner. He went in and closed the door, turning his attention to the other two in the room. 

The first thing that he noticed was that Alex Eames was indeed a woman. _A quite attractive woman too_ , he noticed appreciatively. He also noticed that he towered over her in height, although this wasn’t particularly uncommon, given his height. It wasn’t until later that he would realize that she was almost ridiculously shorter than him despite extremely (in his opinion) high heels. 

“Robert Goren, Alexandra Eames,” the captain said, indicating each of them as he spoke. She offered a hand for shaking, which Bobby accepted. Her tiny hand was nearly enfolded by his, but he did notice that she had a strong grip. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” she said smoothly. 

“You as well,” he replied. 

Something was nagging at him. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was. But it felt as though he was forgetting something important. He would have to think about it later. 

 

Bobby had finally found a long-term partner. The two of them worked well together, despite a slightly rough start. The first day, Bobby had finally figured out what was bothering him. He couldn’t help but wonder about the girl he had known in his childhood, and some small part of him had wondered, hoped, that this could be her. He never had found out what she’d done after high school after all. And she had blonde hair, but short now, and her eyes were the right colour too. She was petite too, just like his Alex. 

Bobby had brushed the thought aside. She was hardly his Alex anymore. In any case, it was highly unlikely that it was her. He had pushed away the very idea, chocking it up to the way the name always made him think of her. He wondered briefly where his Alex was, and if she was happy. For all he knew, she was married with a couple of kids and a white picket fence. Or spending her days in biker bars. Or any number of things in between. But the idea of the two of them ending up working as partners was highly far-fetched. He just needed to try and make this partnership work. 

After a few weeks, his new partner was simply Eames to him, and the idea was forgotten. That was nearly three years ago. 

This particular day had reminded him though. She had mentioned before that her father was a retired cop, and had mentioned a brother and sister too, but he hadn’t made the connection. It was funny how such an offhand comment could bring it all crashing back. 

Goren and Eames had been searching a murder victim’s apartment. They had come across a poster in his daughter’s room depicting a sports car. 

_“How many eight-year-old girls you know who like sports cars?”_

_“Besides me?”_

He had grinned and continued the search when he suddenly paused again to look at her. Surely it was just a coincidence? Luckily, she was watching him knock the cut-out of the wall back, and didn’t see his expression change. He quickly looked to the wall, and, catching sight of the box within the hiding spot, his mind was once again captured by the case. 

It wasn’t until later that Bobby remembered the offhand comment she had dropped. He half wished he hadn’t recalled it, because now his head was spinning with the possible ramifications. Could it really be…?

“No,” Bobby said out loud. In any case, it had been many, many years since they had last communicated. Even if this was her, she probably didn’t even remember him. It had probably been years since she’d thought about him. He had thought about her occasionally over the years, but why would she want to think of him? He was sure that she never had a cause to. 

In fact, Alex had thought about Bobby a lot less than he had thought of her. She had gotten caught up in the college life, her relationship with Joe, her new friends, trying to prove herself as a woman in the NYPD… She had fallen in love with Joe, married him, and then lost him; leaving little room in her heart or mind for childhood friends. Unknown to Bobby at the time, she had transferred into Major Case after coming off of bereavement leave. Where his heart had skipped a beat at meeting her, she had simply been trying to appear as if she wasn’t holding on to herself by a thread. He could very well have declared who he was and her expression likely wouldn’t have even changed, as it was really just a mask anyway. As it was, she hardly cared who her new partner was; she certainly wasn’t thinking of someone she hadn’t even thought about in years. 

As for her hardly thinking of Bobby over the years; it wasn’t that she had cared for Bobby less than he had cared for her. It was simply a mark of the fact that they were very different people. 

It was not a matter of he loved her more and she loved him less. They had both had their hearts broken by their separation, likely by the very same amount. But whereas Alex had been able to pick up and move on, Bobby had not. Alex had recovered from their separation, slowly at first, but eventually her heart was as undamaged as if it had never been broken. She had been able to love again, and she certainly had loved Joe. He could make her laugh no matter how angry or upset she was. Most of her memories of Joe were of them laughing together. In fact, when they had fought, it was quite often caused by him taking life less than seriously. 

But, because it was who Alex was, she had once again picked herself up even when she thought it was impossible to go on from the grief. After a year, she was able to think of Joe and smile, without the searing pain of loss overshadowing the glow of happiness she felt at fond memories of him. And because it was what Joe had wanted, and because it was who Alex was, she thought she might be able to love again. Not yet, maybe not for many years to come, but someday. If she were to meet the right person, then perhaps. 

On the other hand, Bobby had never recovered from losing his best friend. Not that anyone who didn’t know him very well could tell. Where Alex had opened her heat again, even though it was painful, Bobby had closed off the part of his heart that belonged to her. But opening oneself up fully is the only way to recover. Bobby had instead closed off the part of him that belonged to Alex, and would always belong to Alex. Because that was who Bobby was. Once someone had gained his affections, he could never let them go, not completely. But that also meant that he was never really free to love someone else. It was one thing to love someone for the rest of your life, even after they were gone, it was quite another to never let them go at all. As a result, he never loved again after Alex, although he himself didn’t know why. 

Though they had loved each other the same amount, it had been different love, because they were different people. This difference in character had also led to her recovering and him not. Though of course, not even they really understood it themselves. So Alex rarely ever considered Bobby again because she had let him go; Bobby rarely ever considered Alex again because she was not present in his day-to-day life. Both appear to be moving on, but only one truly was. Not being reminded of a person is not the same as true moving on, which is in turn different from forgetting. Neither Bobby nor Alex had truly forgotten each other. 

And this was why they only needed a bit of a reminder. 

Bobby thought of her mentioning her retired cop father, her sister, her brother, and wondered why he had never asked their names. He supposed it had never really mattered before. But how to find out if it was really her? And what to do if it was? Well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. If he came to it. His bigger concern was how to raise the subject with her at all. He could hardly just ask her. _“Hey Eames, do you happen to remember if you had a friend named Bobby when you were a kid? Because if so, I believe I’m that friend.”_

Bobby snorted at the very idea. How on earth would she react to that? He ended up scanning his memory, thinking about everything he knew about her to try and determine if his partner was really the girl he remembered. He fell asleep thinking of her, which led to a rather odd dream. 

Alex had been in it. And so, for reasons Bobby couldn’t fathom, had Lewis. When he woke up, he couldn’t remember the particulars of the dream anymore, although different images continued to flash through his mind’s eye even after he woke up. 

Bobby sat up in bed, looking around wildly. “That was bizarre,” he muttered. He had always had extremely bizarre dreams, and so he had soon forgotten about all the strangeness in his dream and fallen asleep again. 

 

Bobby didn’t know what to do. It seemed so unlikely that she could really be his friend from so many years ago. But the similarities were there, along with coincidences he just couldn’t ignore…

But he had no idea how to bring the subject up with her. It probably wasn’t her anyway. What would she think if he asked and it wasn’t her? Best case scenario, she would say no and let the subject drop. Then again, what if it was her? Even if it really was her – maybe she didn’t remember him. But he knew after having that ridiculous dream the previous night that he wouldn’t be able to let the idea go, not now that it had even planted itself firmly in his subconscious. 

He finally came up with a solution as she got up to leave. He would leave her a note. If it wasn’t her, or she didn’t remember him, she would never know who it was. And if it was her… He didn’t know what to do if it was. But it would be up to her at that point.

He quickly scrawled the note and left it tucked under the picture frame she left sitting on her desk. Looking back from the elevator, he saw the note still sitting there and wondered if he should go back and get rid of it. But he could deny that it was he who left it and she would never know… He left. It was a mark of just how nervous he was that it never occurred to him that she might recognize his handwriting. 

Unknown to him, the second elevator opened, revealing the very person he was thinking about. She had forgotten something in her desk. She went back over and opened her drawer, and her eyes fell on the note tucked under her picture frame. She opened it and read:

_I’ll build you a tree house in a palm tree._

 

Bobby rushed up the next day and checked his partner’s desk. The note was gone. He began looking towards the elevator every ten seconds until he saw her heading towards him. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he struggled to act normal. 

She sat down, took a sip of her coffee, and opened her laptop. He glanced up from his notebook. She didn’t mention the note. 

By the end of the day Bobby was sure. Either it wasn’t her, or she didn’t remember him. She hadn’t mentioned the note all day. Eventually his heart had stopped hammering every time she went to speak to him. He was disappointed, but what had he expected? They weren’t children anymore. It’s probably not even her, he told himself firmly. 

Bobby was packing up his things at the end of the day, leaving only a little late for once. He thought that his partner had already left, but then she was standing in front of him. “I think you dropped this,” she said. 

He took the paper from her. “No, I don’t think so,” he started to say, but when he looked up she was already walking away. 

He looked down and unfolded it, thinking that maybe it was his after all. He looked down and read:

_…and we’ll have to have lots of books!_

He looked back up with a wide smile across his face. He folded the note up and tucked it into the pocket of his suit, lengthening his stride in hopes of catching up to her.


End file.
